The War of the Worlds: Tainted Blood
by Doctor Wolfie
Summary: With Voldemort's defeat, Ron goes to Oz to terrorize Glinda and hopefully get revenge on Elphaba as well. Elphaba wants to help but can only do so by revealing to her friends at Hogwarts the reason she and Fiyero left Oz in the first place. AUTHOR'S NOTE!
1. An Accident Waiting to Happen

**Long time, no see! The first chapter (obviously) is up…a bit earlier than I had said! And again, I have most of the story planned out, so there shouldn't be too many very long delays in the course of this story. **

**The same game applies to this story…guess the musical that the title of the chapter came from and you'll be congratulated at the beginning of the next one. Good luck.**

**To those of you that are new, I'd suggest reading the story that came before this one first (Darkness Rising), but if you don't want to, here's the basic jist: **

_Dumbledore asked Glinda for help against Voldemort. She came over to Hogwarts. She and Elphaba fell in love during the war. Elphaba was captured for two weeks by Voldemort and subjected to intense torture. Ron is evil. In the end, Harry and Elphaba defeat Voldemort together using a spell from the Grimmerie. Fiyero and Hermione end up together. Glinda goes back to Oz. Ron steals the Grimmerie and has disappeared. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own Wicked or Harry Potter. End of story.**

**Now, on with the story!**

_Chapter 1: Accident Waiting to Happen_

Dark clouds were gathering. The wind was beginning to pick up and swat irritably at Ron Weasley, who was struggling to cut through roots and fallen logs. He frowned, observing a thick cluster of trees in hopes of finding the portal to Oz there. As he recalled, Thropp had relayed to the Order several years before that it was around such an area that the portal resided.

He dipped a hand into his bag, feeling around for the hard, cold spine of the Grimmerie to check that it still rested with him. After breaking out of his restraints and stealing the book from Thropp's rooms, he had wandered in and out of bear caves and clearings, studying the ancient pages. However, no matter how he squinted or hexed the damn thing, Ron still made not even the slightest dent in evolving his comprehension of the Grimmerie's ancient language. He hoped to ally himself with someone who could at least decipher a spell or two.

And who knew? Thropp couldn't be the only one in Oz to read it, and she spoke so little of the place that the redhead assumed it to reserve infinite opportunity. Normally, he wouldn't welcome outside help, or search for aid from others, but the unique circumstances could, if he played the game correctly, pose to his advantage. The Grimmerie was such a powerful object that to Ron, it didn't matter anymore. All he wanted was the completion of his one goal: get revenge on Elphaba Thropp.

England was a dreary outlook for him, changing as it were, and he reasoned that sticking around wouldn't be safe. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but both Potter and Thropp were as intimidating, powerful entities as the Grimmerie was, and they were undoubtedly searching for him. The Death Eater required time to collect himself, build a group of allies and attain more magic before heading out to attack the green witch.

Ron paused, suddenly sensing an influx of magic so close that there was a sensation of being pulled into it. He cautiously edged to his right, creeping along as though someone might catch him. He caught the glow of whirling white and silver lights that made up the portal to Oz out of the corner of his eye. He suppressed a cry of glee, for he had been searching for days on end for this very moment. He watched it for a while, in awe of the power centered in such a confined space. He took a determined step forward, but spotted an owl sitting on a branch next to the portal, unmoved by its magnificence. It reminded him of something.

It was July 31st, his ex-best friend's birthday. _I'm sure Harry would be delighted to receive best wishes from his dear pal, _thought the redhead, before flicking his stolen wand in brief movements and conjuring a 'birthday card' for the Boy-Who-Lived. He turned to the owl and handed it the crimson colored envelope gruffly.

"Deliver this to Harry Potter." The bird swayed, as if considering, before flying off with the cargo. Ron surveyed the area that would be his last look at England for a long while and sneered. "Happy Birthday, Harry Potter," he muttered before stepping into the portal and leaving that world behind.

* * *

_It was too dark, and the place was dampened by the lack of oxygen provided by absent sunlight. In front of Elphaba Thropp stood three distinct figures, appearing and disappearing in fleeting wisps of smoke. She was defenseless in the face of their wands, being that she had been chained to the cold, uncomfortable wall. _

_She couldn't run away. Her body ached from the tugging her limbs met with suspending her weight. They were attacking her- wracking her body with unnatural pain again and again. She was shaking against her will, shuddering and cringing with pain._

_Invading red eyes appeared to calculate her. "Elphaba Thropp," the eyes sneered, cold as the wall and red as her blood. "We meet again."_

"_No!" Elphaba croaked, her voice too raw from screaming, fearful of the eyes peering down at her. "You're supposed to be dead. I killed you. Harry and I-" _

"_That was all a dream, Thropp. A witless, hapless fantasy of the hopeful," replied the eyes, piercing her and stealing her lifeblood for its color. "Did you truly believe that, I, Lord Voldemort, could perish by means of a simple spell? What a foolish thing you are. You've been dreaming all along, little green thing. No one's rescued you, or given it any thought, really. You're still here, existing solely to entertain me." _

_Elphaba pulled desperately against her confinements, electing new pain as they cut deeper into her wrists. She tugged violently at her own flesh to escape the new figure that visited. "Morrible!" Elphaba spat at the appearance of the giant, malicious woman. It was confusing to see the two together; since when did Madame Head ally herself with Voldemort? _

_"Hello Elphaba dear." Morrible feigned kindness, as she always had. "Fancy seeing you here, of all places. It's fitting for you, really: placing the animal in it's stall. Or Animal, as the case may be." _

_Elphaba croaked in response, thinking up a curse, when Morrible changed. Her flesh melded into a different kind and became Dumbledore. His blue eyes were devoid of kindness or signs of twinkling, cold instead of inviting. They were uncannily reminiscent of Voldemort's. "You murdered me, Fae," he pointed accusingly._

_"What do you- no! I didn't mean-" Elphaba began feebly. _

_"I nurtured you at Hogwarts, gave you a purpose there, let you into the school and the Order, and how do you repay me? By allowing me to die before you!" His beard was shaking with anger unseen before. _

_"No, I swear, Albus, I didn't want it to happen," Elphaba begged. "I promise you, I-" _

_"Silence!" thundered the deceased Headmaster. "I've been given the pleasure of torturing you first, being that you're my killer. I will take…great pride in your screams." _

_"Albus, please," Elphaba pleaded, searching and coming up short for logic of why the Headmaster was in front of her, a hair short of spitting on her. Whatever insanity had gripped him, she desperately hoped it could be reserved. _

_Dumbledore didn't so much as look at her. He expertly removed his wand and pointed it between her eyes. "Crucio!" _

Elphaba woke with a start, wheezing slightly at the jolt in her rib cage, which reminded her of the nightmare and where it had came from. She strained her eyes to reassure herself that she was far from the Riddle House, but rather, in her rooms at Hogwarts. She had been reading through a book Snape had lent to her on potion making when her eyes slept against her will.

This occurrence was much more familiar compared to sleep lately. It seemed that with Glinda gone, her nightmares of the Riddle House grew worse. The blonde was always there to comfort her when jostled awake by Elphaba's crying out in her sleep, if she unable to subdue the visions completely. The green witch thus reasoned that memories of the Riddle House and that part of her life was dead and buried, but now, it seemed as if it had just been lingering and waiting for a ripe time to return. If it wasn't bad enough, Dumbledore began to appear more often then not – accusing her and driving her mad.

She attempted to stifle a yawn and peered at the clock on the mantle. She swore under her breath as she realized she would be late for Harry's 'surprise' birthday party. The green witch slammed her book shut and raced out of her rooms like someone was chasing after her.

When students were on holidays, professors and Order members used the Great Hall for whatever cause they saw fit. Hermione decided, with much authority, that it would be the best place to host her best friend's surprise party, but Elphaba had a sneaking suspicion that the man already knew what was in store for him.

Elphaba stretched her back, transforming with a pop, and as a black panther, swiftly made the rest of the way to the Hall. Skidding on the cobblestone floors outside, she entered the hall with two minutes to spare, suppressing huffs for air and faking to be nonchalant.

"There you are, Fae," Hermione flustered, redirecting the green witch. "We were worried. I even sent Fiyero after you."

"Sorry. I fell asleep," Elphaba explained, muttering and allowing herself to be lead.

"And no wonder." The bushy haired witch frowned. "You look like you've missed some valuable rest. It'll be important for the school year, you know. What have you been up to, Fae?"

"Nothing." Elphaba waved her arm in dismissal. Hermione put her hands on her hips and offered a scrutinizing glare. Elphaba elaborated, "I'm not doing anything on purpose! Just… nightmares."

"Nightmares?" Hermione repeated, reaching out to touch Elphaba's forearm with concern. "Are they bad. Do you need any potions from Snape?"

"No," Elphaba rejected hastily. "I'll be fine, really. It's just a phase I should work through- nothing of serious concern."

Hermione didn't look convinced, but was interrupted by Fiyero, who came running in with his dark hair floundering about his handsome face. "'Moine, I couldn't find-" he swallowed his words when he noticed Elphaba standing there with an amused expression.

"Either you need glasses or should search harder, Master of Order Scouting," Elphaba teased. "I'm standing right here."

"Okay, quiet!" Hermione demanded. "Remus is coming with Harry; there are footsteps outside!"

"Elphaba," Fiyero whispered, nudging said woman in the side affectionately. "Are you alright? You look like a zombie lately; you definitely need more sleep. There's something going on."

"Thanks, Fiyero," Elphaba scowled, hissing her whispers. "It's always flattering to receive such a compliment. I _would_ sleep more, but there are some horrible images of Voldemort I should probably knock out of my head first."

Harry chose that time to enter, his eyes growing wide at the scene. Everyone hollered, "Harry birthday, Harry!", or something along those lines, and sung the celebratory, obligatory song drunkenly and loudly. Random people in the room congratulated him on his twenty-sixth year, rushing him with gifts.

Elphaba spoke with Harry for a moment and clapped him on the back before receding to watch the proceedings in a corner. It wasn't that she didn't want to wish her friend well or celebrate his survival, but social gathering were never her forte, and the people were just too happy for her speed.

Elphaba wasn't normally ill wishing or jealous of others' happiness, but there was a nagging feeling in her gut. After Glinda had left to go back to Oz, Fiyero and Hermione became closer and Harry had begun considering taking Ginny to dinner (flirting shamelessly as they were). It was enough to highlight what was absent in Elphaba's life. Of course, one of her other best friends was without companionship as well, but the Potions Master seemed content as ever to hide in his classroom brewing potions all day.

The green witch stayed in her rooms lately to spare her friends from the awkwardness of their contrasting fortunes. There were questions, and they cluttered up her social time when she did emerge from her living quarters, causing Elphaba to wish she'd stayed in her rooms the entire time. She wanted to snap at them, sarcastically roar that yes, she was fine with a girlfriend far off in another world.

Elphaba and Glinda were communicating through the mirrors Harry gave to them a week or so ago, but it wasn't the same, as the green witch had predicted. She didn't mention her insomnia or nightmares to the blonde, who had enough on her plate, constantly having to leave the mirror to divide her attention to political matters.

She was in a daze when someone called her name. She looked over at Harry. "Fae, are you all right?" he repeated. "You weren't even in the room just then."

"I'm fine," Elphaba replied mechanically, being an expert from constant repetition. She could even deliver it in several different ways, being a mastermind of language. "I was just thinking…about…things." Harry raised an eyebrow, halfway amused.

"Thinking about the Grimmerie again?" he offered incorrectly. "I've told you before, Fae, worrying over it places us more backwards than forwards in finding it."

"No, I wasn't-" Elphaba shifted to speak to him when an inhuman screech cut her off. Everyone in the Great Hall gazed heavenwards at the black-feathered owl, proudly stretching out its wingspan and carrying a smoking red letter. A Howler.

The owl dropped its consignment on the table in front of Harry before retreating into the rafters. Everyone turned their attention to the man's direction, making him feel as though he were back in school under the scrutiny of his fellow students. He poked the envelope anxiously with his wand to check for enchantments or curses. When none was forthcoming, he took a breath before carefully opening it.

Instinctively, the guests clasped their hands to their ears as the Howler went off, the voice echoing through the Great Hall like a scream. No matter how often a Howler was experienced, it seemed wizards always forgot that listening would cause their ears to ring; they would only smack their hands to their ears after the first roar. Several guests gasped as they realized that the voice belonged to Ron Weasley.

"Happy birthday, Harry Potter! Another year gone, and you're still alive. Celebrate, Potter, for who knows if there'll be another? After the green freak is rotting in the ground, you're next. Happy, _happy_ 26th, Harry." As the last word died out, the envelope shredded itself into papery bits, some of which whacked Harry in the face.

Hermione broke the silence by cursing. "That bastard!" Then, everyone spoke at once, questioning and accusatory.

"Harry?" Elphaba said hesitantly.

"Fae, please don't start," Harry sighed. "I promise you that I'll be okay. I'm perfectly fine with being confined to Hogwarts for as long as needed, and Ron won't be able to get in. Besides, there will be many people he needs to get past before he reaches me, like you, who he said he was after first anyway. We should be protecting _you_."

"Weasley's said that before," Elphaba shrugged indifferently, but her stomach clenched. This would be another thing to keep from Glinda, and it was already hard to lie in front of the blonde. If she were there, Elphaba thought amusedly, she would push Elphaba all the way back to their rooms and lock her in until Ron was captured.

_But she's _not_ here,_ a voice that sounded very much like Glinda's reminded the green witch. _If you continue to think like that, things will only get worse._

"Yes, I know," Harry countered patiently, "but none of the Aurors in my department have been able to track him down yet, and with his reputation as a Death Eater, he'll be loyal to his word if the prospects are rich. He's smarter than he let on to us, we must remember that. I know that you have a tendency to, well…underestimate your opponents sometimes, Fae."

"Are you calling me arrogant?" Elphaba asked in disbelief, jerked awake by the idea.

"No, not arrogant…" Harry muttered. "Just sometimes a little…overconfident for your own good."

Elphaba scowled at him. "And what about the Grimmerie?" she demanded. "It's not just a pretty book. He wants to take advantage of it. He won't let the opportunity pass; he'll twist it to his own personal gain. He's doing it now!"

"Fae, you need to keep your voice and your anger down," instructed Harry. "If this is what you think about on a daily basis, no wonder you've been dozing off in the afternoon all time."

"How in the world does _everyone _know about my sleeping habits?" Elphaba cried, exasperated. "It's not like I tell the entire world that I have insomnia."

"Have you taken a good look at yourself in the mirror lately?" Harry asked rhetorically. "It's not hard to tell. Your color is paler; sometimes I can hardly tell it's supposed to be emerald green. That can't be healthy, Fae. You're about as lively looking as Snape. Does Glinda know?"

"_Does Glinda know?_ No," Elphaba snapped, annoyed by the suggestion. "And I'll thank you not to tell her, either. She's got enough to worry about over in that accursed place without the burden of worrying for my nightmares."

"Nightmares?" Harry frowned. "What type?"

Elphaba's first impulse was to slam her hand on the table, cursing internally for being loose-lipped. "I don't mean to be rude, Harry, but it's none of your business. Please just leave me be. I can take care of myself. If they get bad enough, I'll ask after a Dreamless Sleep Potion from Snape or Madam Pomphrey."

"It sounds like you have it all planned out. And when exactly is 'bad enough'?" retorted the dark-haired wizard. "Is it when you're barely sleeping? Does that not count as 'bad enough'? I can tell you what it's like to be kept up night after night. Are you willing to find out what it's like to be driven so far? I know very well the experience of nightmares, Fae."

Elphaba didn't answer him on the subject, knowing fully well that when Voldemort crept into Harry's mind, the ensuing visions were horrendous on his wakeful state.

Harry sighed. He knew that if he pressed the wound persistently, Elphaba would shut down completely and never utter a word about the subject- she was that stubborn. He opted to forget the subject for now, and grabbed the shredded bits of Howler to distract the people who were eavesdropping.

He threw them into the air like confetti, and all of a sudden, different people in the hall commenced another round of the happy birthday song, and the counter rendition of, "You live in a zoo!"

"Okay, Fae," Harry said to Elphaba once the others' attentions had been diverted. "I'm sorry to pry like that. I'm just concerned for you."

"I know, Harry," Elphaba admitted, but she wasn't smiling. She rarely smiled lately. "I really do."

**Coming up: Glinda's side of the story, and Ron finds some new allies. **

**Well, what do you all think? The next chapter will be up soon. If it's not, you can send my flying human-lupine mutants after me. Or my flying monkeys.**

**Oh…and it happens to be the one-year anniversary (or at least close to it) of the beginning of my obsession with Wicked. **

**-Wolfie**


	2. Take a Chance on Me

**The title from chapter one was from…The Drowsy Chaperone. Congrats to: oboefae, GothPhantom, TryDefyingGravity, Easterly Winds, Raiko Toho, and Yank2324.**

**Hmm…not much to report here. I have AP Week soon, meaning that I need to go to school for three hours a day for five days to do math. –groans- **

**Er…enjoy the chapter!**

_Chapter 2: Take a Chance on Me_

The sun was rising above the land of Oz, warming the coldness that overtook the country during nightfall with its light. This caused Glinda Upland to groan loudly. Another day meant boring meetings, irking treaties to sign off, endless negotiations to consider, and citizens to keep at bay. She gazed longingly at the old hand mirror at her bedside, cradled close by in case the need to use it came- her latest prized possession. She plucked it up indecisively and decided to contact Elphaba when her eyes flickered to the grandfather clock in a corner.

She had less than twenty minutes to preen before attending a meeting at 8:15. Disappointed, she was careful in placing the mirror back onto the table before grabbing a list that lay beside it, which reminded her of all the scheduled appointments she couldn't miss that day.

_Just lovely_, she thought bitterly, checking the very bottom of the long list to find, in messed handwriting, "Speech to Ozians: 3:30." Glinda hadn't even prepared a speech. Upon the obligatory pressure of returning to her responsibilities in Oz, she often seemed to be forgetting things until the last minute.

Glinda had arrived back to a general Ozian fanfare, clamouring for a detailed explanation as to where she'd been for the better part of a year and why she'd chosen to abandon them. Enquiries poured in from so many sources, of varying social rank, that she announced a speech to explain it all to an audience in the Emerald City.

Adding to the questions, there was a load of paperwork for Glinda to deal with, her least favourite activity as a government official. It had all accumulated from a year's absence. She had appointed Diomedes, one of her most trusted advisors, to supervise her unchecked responsibilities and to run Oz until she returned. As compassionate a leader Diomedes turned out to be, he was by far not the most organized, for he had not expected her to be gone for the great amount of time she was. Glinda even ventured so far to admit he was probably the least organized person she had ever met.

Every last piece of legislation and law that passed through the Ozian government during her leave begged for attention, and she was obligated to give it, unless she was in a meeting or talking to Elphaba. The job wasn't as carefree as it seemed to the blonde before England.

Of course, all this would be tolerable if it weren't for one little gem. She was accustomed to sleeping and waking in the same bed as her green girlfriend for so long that waking up alone unnerved Glinda in a way she wouldn't admit to Elphaba. It discomforted her entire day, until she was over it by the evening, by which time she was reminded that tomorrow would carry the same lonely displeasure. The mirrors were only a means of talking: they did not allow the two lovers to feel each other, to kiss, or caress. If it weren't the only way to contact the green witch, Glinda would have smashed hers in frustration.

Besides, they had probably only enough time to speak twice or thrice in the past few days that Glinda had returned to politics. Neither were willing to make the leap: the one that suggested they speak every few days as opposed to every few hours or minutes, never mind being apart, but there they were, embarking on their sparse love affair.

Elphaba was the kind of woman to omit things from her summary of the day for what she liked to call "your own good". This, given the usually unusual activities in the Wizarding World in England, and the recent defeat of Voldemort, especially bothered Glinda. There was a wounded Death Eater on the loose who was out for Elphaba's blood, but the green girl refused to talk about it. The mirrors showcased from the neck up, so Glinda could not hypothesize the state of Elphaba's health, either, which certainly wasn't going to be honestly confessed. It was fair game, though, because the same rules applied vice versa.

The newly risen sun seemed warmer than agreeable. Glinda stood up and wandered to the cosmetic supplies that would assist her in the meeting, and afterwards, her speech. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

"Fellow Ozians…" Glinda's voice rang out from her balcony high above the crowds below. Her line of vision consisted of a blur of heads and adoring faces, being that she was held at such a high distance from the ground.

This made it the perfect place for Ron Weasley to be. He had arrived in the green city only a day ago, forced through the custom of accommodating foreigners and having circular spectacles jammed on his face that made everything green. Even the citizens were green, until he took the glasses off and breathed a sigh of relief to find that they didn't actually bear any likeness to Thropp.

Unfortunately, he realized that there was no easy, or any way, really, to start. He couldn't just walk up to a stranger and show them the Grimmerie. The streets were somehow familiar in the way its urban status was like London's. If the book was as powerful as the Ozians he knew foretold, then it was worth keeping a secret.

The giant book bounced off his thigh as he walked, jostling through the crowd and camouflaged by the company. Thropp's…_girlfriend_ (he contained a grimace at that thought) was still going on and on about something or another in that annoying high-pitched voice that she had. "…And I'm confident you've been doing wonderfully in my absence…" He could almost feel his gag reflex come to life. _What did either of them see in each other?_ he thought.

Suddenly, the Death Eater felt a pair of eyes on him. It soon multiplied to a wave of discomfort. He whirled around, wand at the ready tightly by his side to shoot a curse. It was impossible to tell through the hordes of people, assembled in mobs barely segregated by sidewalk, still buzzing in a low growl as Glinda's voice rose over the audience.

He growled audibly as people brushed against him, knocking his shoulders through the tight squeeze of people. "Watch where you're going!" he snapped, but that person disappeared again as soon as they came. Only noticing it then, Ron felt something smooth and crinkling in his palm, having been slipped there by the rude crowd member. It was a note.

Making a furtive glance to see if he could try to spot his watchers, but deeming it useless once more, he unfolded the note and peered at it closely:

_"Order tea at the Emerald Café. You have what we need, and, over drink, deals will be negotiated."_

There was no signature, or even a slight hint to whom the anonymous writer could be. He peered at the note again, straining to think about what he could have that was desired by others. The Grimmerie was still bumping into his leg in a most annoying manner, hitting other people and bouncing back as he walked through the crowd.

It was the only thing he could think of that the mysterious person, or people, wanted. That meant they must be able to _read_ the damn thing, meaning that if they were to draw a deal, he would ask for help to overthrow the green witch. In fact, the idea was so befitting in conscience that it was almost…_freaky_, how simple it seemed to find aid.

Expecting slight disagreement from partaking in Thropp's ultimate humiliation and death, the Death Eater reminded himself that he would not settle for anything less, and that this person, or people, could forget the book if they denied him.

Now, where to find the Emerald Café? Ron scanned the area, full of people in the sunlight. It was cast over Glinda's balcony as she spoke loudly and enunciated clearly in a way only politicians pulled off without being bullied. There was a blur of green, a sea of faces. There was no way privacy could be maintained in the great horde of people.

He managed to squeeze through throngs on the sidewalk, glancing at the signs on different street level stores, which all happened to be green. The Emerald Café lived beneath the Emerald Hotel, which sported some red and gold in the swarm of green. _Couldn't anyone come up with more variety in their names?_ he thought lazily, bored already.

It was decided, then. He would stay in the Emerald Hotel until midnight, and, when the streets were clear, the only trace of the afternoon marked by garbage-filled roads, Ron would make his way to the café and meet these anonymous benefactors.

* * *

The chime of the giant Emerald City clock sounded more like a guttural thump as it rang twelve times when midnight approached. As soon as Ron heard the sound, he stood to rummage through his bag and uncovered a old second-hand cloak and hood. With the Grimmerie in his bag and the cloak draped over his body, he casually walked into the café.

Wafts of unsavoury smoke and the spicy scent of liquor greeted him from the open door, and from there, he could tell the lights were dim, thankful that the feature would help mask his identity. Already, a group of hooded figures were waiting for him in the back of the café, looking strangely out of place, but ignored by the rest of the patrons nonetheless.

The person Ron supposed was the leader of the group from his proud posture motioned for the Death Eater to join them as they retreated to a small back room behind them. They disappeared so fast that Ron rushed a little to reach it. Once everyone was inside, the door slammed shut and the lights were completely doused. No one was visible. Beneath his cloak, Ron clutched the Grimmerie greedily.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "Why have you asked me to come here?"

"We are simple renegades against _Lady_ Glinda's reign," replied one, no doubt the leader from before. "You may call me Markku. There is someone that we know of who is much more suited for the position of ruling Oz, someone with a certain _vigour_ for politics. Unfortunately, she is locked in the deepest cell of Southstairs – Oz's most watched over prison – and we have no way to rescue her."

"And this is where I come in?" Ron asked, trying to conceal the nervousness he felt, which wasn't hard, considering the lack of lighting.

"We noticed that you have a certain spell book in your possession," Markku said, a familiar smirk in his tone. "If, with your help, we are successful in our efforts of returning Madame Morrible to her rightful place as leader of Oz, you will be…highly rewarded. I am certain that, in her gratitude, Madame would be willing to grant you negotiable…favours, as well. Power, wealth…it's all hers to give away, and yours to take."

"Now, wait a moment!" Ron interrupted. "Why do you need the Grimmerie to break this…Horrible out of prison?" The redhead was not yet willing to admit he couldn't decipher a single word of the text. "I know a type of magic that comes much easier and enforces much faster."

Markku chose to gloss over the mispronunciation of Morrible's name. "Do you?" he challenged, sounding eager- or was that disbelief? "If you're so sure of yourself, s_ir_, please, enlighten the rest of us."

Ron grinned in the dark. He pulled out his wand, anticipating pure awe at his power. He muttered, "_Silencio_," as he pointed to the door.

"Well?" one of the other men snapped impatiently, from the far end of the darkened room. "What happened? Nothing, I tell you. Markku, this is a waste of time!"

"Quiet!" Markku demanded. "I assume that you're yet to be finished," he told Ron. "Because if that were all, I would be highly disappointed. Highly. And I assure you, disappointment is only tolerated so far."

Ron raised an eyebrow in the darkness. Markku obviously knew nothing of wand magic, or he would be cowering in fear. It was so simple and tempting, to raise his wand, shout an unforgivable curse, and educate the cloaked man through example, but he settled for shrugging. "No, I wasn't," he replied coolly. "And you'd think it best not to interrupt. I wanted it to sound quiet out there for what's about to occur…" he pointed his wand where he guessed the table was, being that his shin connected with it. "_Bombarda_!"

The table instantly exploded, the sound of splintering wood shattering the room's cool air and leaving behind nothing but dust. "_Lumos_." The meek light escaping Ron's wand was enough for the renegades to view what had become of their furniture.

"Impressive," commented Markku, with a slight curiosity to his voice, but ambling over to Ron to feign boredom. "Any others?"

"Anything specific that you're looking for?" Ron asked, figuring his wand lightly. "There are many, covering any area that you may wish."

"Offensive spells," Markku hissed instantly. "Attacking spells. Things we might use to break one out of a highly guarded prison."

"Oh. You mean something like this?" Ron replied, excited to finally receive some attention, especially for something that came to him so easily. He disliked Markku, and was able to express that without showcasing it. "_Stupefy_!"

A cloaked figure beside Markku crumpled to the floor, stunned. The rebel barely gave him a glance. "Very nice," he growled, an apparent admiration present in his voice. "Although I'll have to ask you to refrain from killing any more of our men. The Gale Force is a mighty military and outnumbers us already."

"He's not dead." Ron waved his free hand dismissively. "Just stunned. I can awake him just as easily as bringing him down. But, if I may ask…the Gale Force? What do you mean by 'military'?"

"You really _are_ new here aren't you?" Markku smiled. "The Gale Force work for Lady Glinda. Guards, if you will." As he listened, Ron bent to undo his spell on the stunned man silently so that Markku could continue. "They're everywhere in this city. So, you've spells for killing humans, as well?"

"Of course," Ron shrugged. "Ones for slow deaths, fast deaths, torture curses, that sort of thing. There is a very effective one, very savoury to the caster, called the _Cruciatus_…" he trailed off, almost reminiscing at the times it became necessary. The Cruciatus reminded him of torture, mind-bending torture, and from that, it reminded him of Thropp.

He turned around to face Markku again. "I don't draw deals easily, Markku; this entire deal has to be pleasing to me as well."

"Like I said before," Markku negotiated, "once Morrible is out, she can retrieve you almost anything. Money? Loads. Power? More than you can han-"

"No," Ron interrupted. The entire room was silent; even the breaths of his company were undetectable. "No. I don't care about money, and as much as the prospect of power entices me, there is something more I require. Much more."

"We're willing to negotiate for Madame's sake," Markku said, slightly curious as to what the Death Eater's voice changed for, making him sound…somehow hungry, or vengeful.

"In the place where I come from, there's someone named Elphaba Thropp, going by Fae. She's from this world. Have you heard of her?" began Ron.

Markku paused for a moment. "No, it doesn't rings a bell," he answered slowly, before turning to his comrades. "Anyone?" he offered.

The man who spoke out before participated again, as a low muttering emerged from the cloaked figures. "I think I've heard that name before…but if none of us can place it, then she obviously was of no importance here."

"Well, that doesn't matter. Back in England, she was an enemy to me and my cause. If I assist you in your goal, you must help me with mine: I want Elphaba Thropp. I want her alive, so that I may torture her. And then I want to kill her. Is that acceptable?"

"Not quite," growled Markku. "It seems you are asking us to travel to your world and find her."

"No. Of course not," Ron smirked, knowing this part would win them over. "Thropp and Glinda have ties, a sort of relationship. If Morrible replaces Glinda, and we somehow overthrow and hurt her, Thropp will come running back, tripping over her robes in fright. All I require is assistance in capturing her, since she possesses the same magic I do."

"Hmm…our plans seem to coincide with yours," Markku mused, leaning on a broken table leg. "This couldn't be just a lucky coincidence, I'm sure. Perhaps Madame Morrible will know who Elphaba is, if she ever passed through Shiz University. Madame was Headmistress." He paused, his voice taking on a peculiar interest. "Perhaps, when you torture this woman, I may also be present?" Rounds of rambunctious laughter met this statement, although he was serious.

Ron also smiled, knowing this was assurance to receive his due reward. All he had to do was exercise his wand, and Thropp would be in his clutches. "Of course, Markku. Of course."

"Are you going to use your curses?" Markku asked, snapping the weak table leg without remorse.

"Yes. The Cruciatus, among other things," Ron drawled. "Thropp's screams are…exhilarating, to say in the least. I'm sure you'll agree later. Would you like a demonstration?" Markku gave a small nod of agreement and a wave of his hand. Ron's eyes searched the room, finding the person he stunned the last time and selecting him as a victim. "_Crucio!_" The Death Eater delighted in the way the man fell to the floor, writhing and howling until the curse was lifted.

"I must confess, I like how you think…but I don't believe I caught your name." The leader narrowed his eyes at Ron, the dim lights making them seem black.

"Weasley," Ron shrugged, not caring whether they were knowledgeable of his real name. There was an atmosphere of energy he felt from these people not being able to imagine his wand's magic. An atmosphere of power.

"Well, _Weasley_, this marks the beginning of a very pleasing collaboration…or friendship, dare I say it." Markku clapped Ron on the back, the victim of the curse still panting on the ground.

Ron grinned. "So, friend…what is your first plan of action?"

**Coming up: Problems in Oz.**

**Lurline...Ron is so freaking evil. You'll see how twisted he is soon. I don't remember when, but...eventually. I ****have it planned up to chapter 19 and written up to chapter 9. **

**-Wolfie**


	3. Something's Coming

**The title from chapter two was from…okay, originally it was from Little Women, but apparently, everyone guess Mamma Mia, so I'll take that one too. Congrats to: Vicster's Jar of Dirt, Raiko Toho, Raspberry Seltzer, TryDefyingGravity, GoldnWlf, Yank2324, Midnightpopcorn, Anne Flint, Courtney Dax, and X-Kate-X.**

**Finally- the first real Elphaba/Glinda interaction! Hope you like it.**

_Chapter 3: Something's Coming_

Elphaba stumbled tiredly into her rooms, dragging her feet. It had been over a week since the conversation about her nightmares with Harry, and if anything, they'd increased in intensity rather than get any better. She couldn't possibly persist pretending like she was alright, especially since practically everyone on faculty knew of her troubles, but she couldn't quite collect comfort from having to ask for help.

She finally did, however, collect her pride that afternoon and visit Snape in his classroom. He was nonchalant about it, but that was the thing with Snape: he could still mock you with his equanimity. Still, he promised to brew and deliver a Dreamless Sleep Potion to her rooms that evening. Elphaba nodded politely, inwardly rejoicing about spending an entire night without being haunted by nightmares.

The green witch fell onto her armchair, kicking off her heavy boots and drumming her fingers over an assortment of books. She was about to pull one out when she felt her hand mirror activate in her pocket, making her forget entirely what she was about to read. She pulled it out to find Glinda's face looking directly at her.

"Elphie!" Glinda greeted, although the fashion in which she did so lacked its usual excitement. It wasn't tiredness; it was a new kind of worry.

Elphaba smiled at the blonde, the first genuine smile she cast in a few days. "Hello, Glinda," she said.

"I've missed you so much, Elphie." Glinda returned the smile.

"One would think you too busy to think about me," Elphaba replied, still smiling slightly. "Glinda, how are you?"

"Just fine," Glinda said cheerfully…and falsely.

The smile completely faded from the green witch's face at those words. "What's going on, Glinda? There's something the matter, isn't there?"

The blonde avoided the other woman's gaze, her eyes shifting downwards at her hands, as she always did while trying to invent a lie. "W-what do you mean? There's nothing going on here. Well, nothing out of the ordinary."

Elphaba rolled her eyes, conveying her dissatisfaction at the answer. "I can tell something is wrong. First, you're shifting your eyes; you always do that when you lie. Second, your answers are so sparse that I can tell you're trying to avoid saying anything."

"It's not like you tell _me_ everything," Glinda retorted. "When I worry about you, I can't get you to budge."

"That's because there's nothing wrong with me!" Elphaba cried in exasperation. "Everyone thinks that something is wrong, but-"

"Exactly." Glinda smirked in triumph. "It's not just me who's been worrying about you. There's strength in number, you know, and I've been saying it for two weeks now. So, tell me, why does everyone say there's something wrong with you?" The blonde was glad the object of the conversation had shifted away from her. Elphaba didn't require the additional stress from Oz's turmoil when her own was burdening enough.

Elphaba opened her mouth, emitting one or two syllables in defiance of Glinda's enquiry and ready to counter with a question of the blonde's own omitted details, but a loud knocking came from the portrait guarding the entrance to her rooms. Elphaba shifted her eyes several times from the portrait door to Glinda, miserably stuck between the two, before giving her girlfriend an apologetic expression.

"I'll be right back," she said, setting the mirror face-up on the armchair and abandoning it to open to portrait. Glinda was left looking at the ceiling, ready to count all the cracks from old age, when she realized she could hear everything being said.

She could distinctly hear the portrait opening and Elphaba greeting Snape. "Did you bring-"

"Your Dreamless Sleep Potions," Snape interrupted, probably revealing them from his cloak. "I brought enough to last a couple of nights, but I forbid you taking anymore after these doses. It's a draught, and when not taken responsibly, it becomes addictive if you depend on it nightly."

"I appreciate it very much, Snape," thanked Elphaba, her tone one of obvious relief.

"Take one vial before you sleep; they should either eliminate your nightmares, or at least make them unintelligible enough for you to be indifferent," instructed the Potions Master. There was a shuffling noise that meant he was leaving. He paused, though, and turned to give Elphaba a steady look. "Fae, I saw Potter on the way here. He asked for me to deliver you a message. Normally, I wouldn't do anything for Potter, which makes me wonder why he should ask," he sneered, "but I regret to say that I heartily agree with the message-"

Elphaba crossed her arms about her chest impatiently. "Well, out with it."

Snape smirked at her, leaning in to tell her whatever he had to say. "_I told you so_," he snickered, leaving swiftly enough that the portrait fell shut behind him with a hollow thud.

Elphaba's shoulders sagged in defeat, and she let out a load groan. She set the vials down on the table and rushed back to where Glinda was waiting. "Sorry I took so long," she apologized, picking up the mirror and gingerly sitting back down.

Glinda said nothing, but rather, glared at Elphaba in anger and annoyance, expectant of something. Elphaba looked back at her blankly, blinking in an attempt to ask her what the matter was.

"Elphaba Thropp," Glinda yelled suddenly, giving the green witch a start. "I thought we both _promised_ each other to tell each other absolutely _everything_ that was happening, _especially_ with ourselves!"

Elphaba swallowed, realizing that the exchange had been overheard, but hoping dearly that it wasn't. There was a tugging in her chest. "Yes?" she said absently. "So, I've told you everything." _Mostly, _she added, cautiously examining Glinda's facial expression.

"And, um, what about those nightmares? What about that addictive draught Snape just gave you, hmm? When, pray tell, where you planning on letting me in on that little secret?" accused the blonde. "If I know you, Elphaba, and I do, then I can safety say that you don't accept assistance, especially from a potion, unless something is very wrong. These nightmares must be really bad if you asked for potions."

"It's nothing," Elphaba sighed. "They're just small…visions."

Glinda smiled disbelievingly, although it could have just been to take a breath before letting out a stream of curses. "No, they're not," she said sternly. "Obviously, they're bad enough to keep you up all night. You look like death, Elphaba, and I even asked you if you were having nightmares! What're…what are they about?"

Elphaba thought for a moment, smirking. "Glinda," she proposed. "I'll make you a deal. If you tell me about what's going on in Oz, I promise to tell you about my nightmares. Okay?"

Glinda scowled. "Elphie…" she began, flailing a hand helplessly. Her train of thought suddenly changed. "Fine," she huffed, "but you go first."

"Will you promise that you will tell me about Oz?" Elphaba raised an eyebrow.

"You mean like how _you_ promised me that you would tell me if you had any problems here?" Glinda snapped.

"Glinda…" The green witch let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to know because you're so busy over there; I didn't want to worry you further. I mean, you've got a country to run. You shouldn't have concern for something as petty as…nightmares."

"I'm your girlfriend," Glinda replied, causing Elphaba to smile at the statement. "If there's one thing I am entitled to worry about, it's you."

"Alright. Mostly, in my dreams, I'm…I'm back in the Riddle House. It's always the same thing, really, with Voldemort…his eyes, just kind of…taunting me. Dumbledore's got a cameo," she said, any traces of what used to be a smile gone from her face. She looked drawn and sleepless. "He blames me for his death. He's got a wand, and when he's finished, he tortures me…"

"Elphaba, look at me," Glinda instructed gently. "You're not there anymore. Voldemort has no power over you, or even over the Wizarding World. He can't touch you, Elphie. You're untouchable, and he can't hurt you anymore. Dumbledore wasn't you fault, and I don't care if you protest. He was fully conscious of his decision, and that's all there is to it. You mustn't blame yourself for occurrences that can't be helped, Elphie, and you know he would never hurt you."

"I know," Elphaba answered. "For some reason, though, it just won't leave my head. When I'm awake, I think about it constantly, and when I want to sleep, I second-guess myself. I need those potions from Snape."

"But like he said, Elphie, you can't end up depending on them. That's why you can call me whenever you need to. I'll talk you through it. We'll work through this together," Glinda promised reassuringly, "just like we used to. Just like we've been doing all along."

It was the same tone Glinda used to soothe Elphaba in the middle of the night, when she would wake up, fresh out of the Hospital Wing. When the green witch had fear in her eyes, which poured out in the manifestation of tears, Glinda would hold her, and rock her, and pet her hair, never once protesting to the late time, although she would be tired herself.

Elphaba smiled, wishing she could kiss Glinda through the mirror. "Thank you," she said softly. Quickly, she added, "I love you," because she knew Glinda would delight in it.

"And I love you too, Elphie. That's why I want to help you through this."

"Uh huh, we're over it now. It's time to uphold your promise," Elphaba smirked, her voice returning to its normal volume. "There's something going on in Oz that you're not telling me."

"Well hush, you'll interrupt." Glinda bit her lip, buying time to think on how to phrase this. Lurline forbid she worry Elphaba enough for the green witch to come barging back to Oz without any set plan. "There have been…small disturbances in the city," she said slowly.

Elphaba frowned. "Of what kind?"

"I'm not sure," Glinda said honestly. "They've been taking place in the side streets, like tiny riots that end violently."

"Violently, as in, trampling, beating, death?" Elphaba wanted to jump from her seat, but there was no one to jump to. "Has anyone been badly injured?"

"Just very shallow injuries, but a few hours in the hospice took care of them. A select few citizens…but, I'm afraid the attacks will get stepped up, the causers braver if we can't stop them in time."

"We? Glinda, you haven't been going out there to these riots, have you?" Elphaba asked, alarmed.

"No, Elphie, of course not." Glinda tapped her cheek lightly with her unbound hand, surprised that Elphaba would come to that conclusion. "I've been sending the Gale Force out, mostly just to patrol alleyways, and when word of disturbance reaches the palace. The rioters are always gone, though, almost like…" Glinda stopped herself and laughed.

"Almost like what?" urged Elphaba earnestly, even if the politics of Oz didn't concern her anymore.

"Like magic," Glinda replied, exaggerating her words. "Oh, I don't know…it's as if they could Apparate or used a Portkey, but that's impossible."

Elphaba looked at Glinda intently. "Do you know have an idea who these people are? I mean, if that's to say it's the same people over again. If I can get over here from Oz, and you back there from here, who's to say they couldn't be from England?"

"Well, I've a clue," Glinda said, furrowing her brow. "A Gale officer seemed to recognize a…leader, I think, of the group. His name is Markku, if it means anything. If you remember him from Shiz, he was two years our elder. Black hair. Frightening blue eyes."

Elphaba gazed up at the ceiling, trying to remember. "I might," she murmured. "I honestly can't say. Is there anything else about him particularly interesting besides his looks?"

Glinda blushed despite herself, and continued. "After he graduated – this was after you were pronounced a… well, he went to work for the Wizard, indirectly through Morrible. He disappeared once I put her in jail. I believe he was one of her stronger supporters, but it was hard to tell until someone recognized him."

"Glinda, are you certain that you'll be safe with this guy running around unchecked? Causing chaos as he is without getting caught, he could try something bigger. Do you need me-"

"_No_," Glinda stressed immediately, jerking the mirror. "There is no way you're coming anywhere _near_ here. You are not to be caught by anyone. I promised you that I wouldn't clear your name. I promised, and everyone still thinks you're evil. I have to lie everyday, it's even been suggested that people you cursed caused the riots, and it makes the Ozians angry. Do you understand that, Elphaba?"

"Yes," Elphaba mumbled quietly, but not meaning it completely. Unless the situation was dire, she wouldn't go back to Oz, but their definitions of 'dire' differed greatly in the face of handling trouble on their own. Once she knew for sure that Glinda was in danger, she would leave for the portal immediately, even if that meant Elphaba had to take up flying broomstick and crystal balls again, and damn anyone who tried to stop her.

"Elphaba?" Glinda prompted, earning a quick glance. "Just… promise me you'll never come back. It's not safe for you here anymore, and I don't want you to get hurt."

Elphaba, never dishonest in staying true to her word, didn't want to lie to the blonde, especially when she wore such a pleading expression. "I'll try," Elphaba finally sighed. "It's the best I can do, to try, but I can't promise you."

Glinda accepted that, for she knew the green witch wouldn't grant her any more. Everyday in Oz, she was perfecting her skill at lying, which would now come into play with her girlfriend. This sudden occurrence of rebellion was not improving, and in order to become better, it would first have to worsen. Glinda just didn't want to clue Elphaba in on the part where it got worse.

"So, Elphie…" Glinda tapped her lips thoughtfully, before remembering. "What is the situation with Weasley and the Grimmerie? If you haven't caught him yet, it's not fine, so don't go and give me a two worded answer."

"Well, you're right," Elphaba answered honestly. "He's yet to be caught, but, then again, he still hasn't tried anything. We can't possibly figure out his location until he makes a move, but truthfully, I believe he's waiting for us to do it."

"Just be careful, Elphie. His primary goal is to kill you, and he's made no effort to conceal that. If you're not wary and he manages to hurt you, so help me Lurline," the blonde was getting worked up at the notion, "I will revive you just to kill you myself!"

"Reassuring," Elphaba commented wryly, but she steadied her gaze. "I won't give him that chance. I can't afford to. The most we can do now is wait… but Fiyero's still scouting for Death Eater activity, Weasley included."

"Good, then all the business is out of the way," Glinda smiled in an attempt to be cheerful, but she couldn't suppress her unease over Elphaba's deterioration. "You know all about me – I'm knee-deep in paperwork. But you're preparing for another semester, right?"

"Yes. I've been trying to work on lesson plans, things you find boring, going through reading lists-" Elphaba stopped short when a knock at Glinda's door sounded, but then continued. "And those easier tasks, like making sure we're interrupted every time we talk."

Glinda sighed dejectedly. "I'm sorry, Elphie. I forgot… there's some dinner, Gala, or other social gathering I'm to be escorted to tonight."

Elphaba couldn't swallow the groan that escaped her lips, borne from the fact that this interruption would mark the end of the first conversation in a long time with the blonde. They spent their entire time discussing unhappy issues. Although it was necessary, she couldn't help but feel their minutes were wasted.

"Elphie? I'll try to talk to you tomorrow," Glinda promised, nodding. "I love you so much, and I miss you every day."

"I love you too," Elphaba said. "But it's not the same without you being here," she added softly.

"I know, but I have to go. Diomedes is opening the door. Bye," Glinda whispered, all the while closing a drawer she shoved the mirror into, and Elphaba's screen became a regular reflective surface.

Elphaba resisted the urge to throw the mirror over to the other side of the room out of frustration, opting to lay it down with the utmost care. She took out her frustration on a pillow instead, clutching it and sinking her fingernails into the fabric before chucking it violently at the bedroom door… just in time to hit Fiyero as he entered.

"Hey!" Fiyero yelled in surprise, swatting the pillow off of where it attacked him, square in the face. "What was that for?" He threw the pillow back at Elphaba, who caught it moodily and set it back in its rightful place: Glinda's old side of the bed.

"I'm sorry, Fiyero." Elphaba didn't look at her ex-boyfriend. "I'm just…frustrated with everything. All that's been going on with the mirrors, my nightmares, Ron still hasn't been caught, and… this whole situation in Oz."

"There's a situation in Oz?" Fiyero asked, taken aback. "Did Glinda tell you about it, then?"

"Sit down and I'll tell you," Elphaba waved her hand at the foot of her bed, the Winkie carefully taking a seat at the edge and listening intently as the green witch relayed Glinda's suspicions.

"So…this Markku is running around causing trouble for everyone?" Fiyero clarified. When Elphaba nodded grimly, Fiyero muttered, "Merlin. Do you believe he's got intent to kill anyone?"

"Oh, it's very likely," Elphaba sighed. "I've got a… bad gut feeling about this Markku. If he's a supporter of Morrible and is out there causing problems, it indicates some kind of plan. Morrible is getting ready to do something. Markku wouldn't be rioting if he hadn't a reason."

"Elphaba," Fiyero said slowly, watching a familiar passion ignite in his friend's eyes. "You're not thinking about going back to Oz, are you?"

"If Glinda's in danger, I have no choice," explained the witch, as though it were the simplest equation.

"If you do, things will only get worse," Fiyero retorted harshly. He wanted to make her understand, but he knew Elphaba was stubborn, especially when it came to a cause she was passionate about. He suspected love was no different, recalling his own brash actions to help her escape the Emerald City. "You don't want to hear this, I know, but you need to. If you go rushing back, people are going to organize another witch hunt, and although you have a panther animagus you don't have nine lives. You'll be creating more problems for the citizens, and more distress as well."

"I _know_ that, Fiyero," Elphaba yelled. "I just…I just don't know what else to do! I can't help Glinda from all the way over here."

"You have to trust that she's responsible enough to keep her order under control," Fiyero said soothingly, although the green witch looked unconvinced. "It's about believing in her," he tried, but Elphaba gave him a sour look. "Look, Elphaba, I'd do anything to help Glinda, too. If you're _certain _there's something Glinda can't handle, I will willingly go back with you. You need someone to keep you grounded, or your nerves will cause trouble," he smiled.

"Thank you," Elphaba smiled back, her green lips exposing teeth. "After all, it's nerves that have me so on edge, anyway."

"As long as we're here, that old hag Morrible can't touch you," Fiyero tried to reassure Elphaba. "As long as we're in England, you're safe." Elphaba's body reacted oppositely to the words being spoken, revolting by spreading an ominous feeling of dread, hanging over her head and telling her otherwise.

**Coming up: Markku and Ron take real action.**

**As GothPhantom and CardboardCreative can tell you, I have a rather large army of bats (and Bats). Said Bats are at my bidding…so review. Or the Bats commeth. :D**

**Oh, and check out the Official Wicked Fanfiction Awards if you haven't done so already. (In my profile.) It's like...in the words of LostOzian: "Tonys for people like us." Or something like that. I'm paraphrasing. **

**-Wolfie**


	4. Alas For You

**The title from chapter three was from…West Side Story. Congrats to: Courtney Dax, Raiko Toho, Anne Flint, Raspberry Seltzer, and TryDefyingGravity.**

**AP Week starts today. Although…lucky for you all, there'll still be regular updates because I'm ahead in my chapter writing. **

**I'm also doing a fifty Wicked one-shot challenge on the side (for Livejournal), so I'll be working on that as well. I'm not posting it here, but I'm just letting you know that I'm going to be splitting my (limited) writing time between WotW and fanfic50. **

_Chapter 4: Alas For You_

Ron smirked as he watched uniform clad Gale Force run frantically about the city in an attempt to locate the rioters. That afternoon had been a relatively small outburst, but the officers had been searching alleys and bars, markets and streets since the crowd dispersed. They hadn't a clue as to how the culprits managed to escape so quickly – little did they know that the Death Eater had supplied them with a Portkey that would transport them back to their hideout.

Ron had yet to actually visit the hideout, but he knew of its location outside the city. He wondered absently about it, being that Markku had invited Ron there to discuss their next plan of action against Glinda. He was supposed to send out one of his men to escort the redhead.

On the other hand, forming an alliance with these people proved a wise choice for necessity. Ron sighed contently, reclining in his hotel room chair and mulling over where he stood in the plan, and how much closer he became to his goal with every executed operation. The room provided for him in the hotel was luxurious, and with good food in his stomach and a strong constellation of allies, he would soon be revitalized enough to cause Thropp a satisfactory amount of pain.

He grabbed for the newspaper that was delivered to his room. He had given it no more than a glance until now. "Wicked Witch of the West Cause of Recent Terror Attacks?" blared the black and white headline. There seemed to be a photograph of the witch in question beneath the headline, but the figure was not animated as Ron was used to, and someone had scribbled crudely over it before it arrived.

The redhead snorted as he crumpled the paper into a ball and launched it into the fireplace at the foot of his chair. The only thing he invested real care about in this world, he reasoned, was completing his part of the bargain to coexist with what was promised to him. He would ask Markku about anything notable later.

Speaking of which, where the hell was he? Markku's escort was at least fifteen minutes late; a most shoddy presentation if one was to convey their seriousness about their job. As the thought crossed his mind, a knock sounded at the hotel room door.

Meeting him was the same man Ron had cursed as an example. He was wearing his hood tightly over his head. The Death Eater recognized him by his horrible posture, but when he thought about it, Ron realized that he had never seen any of Markku's men with their faces exposed.

"Come with me," the man ordered, his voice low and clearly displeased in having to spend time with Ron. The redhead didn't budge. Service to Lord Voldemort had made him paranoid about imposters and traps.

"How do I know if you're on my side?" he countered. "You don't suppose I'd trust any old bloke – prove who you claim you are."

The man shuffled in exasperation. "How?" he demanded.

"Tell me something about the night we closed the deal that no one else would know if they weren't there," challenged the Death Eater, resting a hand on his wand.

"You exploded a table," shrugged the man. "There's some woman you want to torture, and Markku wants to watch."

Ron nodded, persuaded by the information. "Let's go, then." As they walked down the hallway, walls painted and carpet colored emerald, Ron asked, "Are we going to the hideout today?"

The man stiffened, whirling around to almost pin Ron again the wall. "Are you crazy?" he roared. "Shut up about our business, _especially_ out in the open!"

"Have you forgotten the extent of what I can do?" Ron advanced coldly. "Speaking to me like that, I'll have to bet you wanted another taste of the Cruciatus."

Growling, the man didn't answer. Instead, he led the way through the Emerald City, past hundreds of stores level to the street, and on occasion, tall, magnificent buildings. After a considerable time, they slowed to peer at an old building, out of place with its grey body and barred windows, surrounded, almost to the point of layering, with barbed wire.

"Southstairs." The man nodded curtly at the building before hurrying on, slowing his pace, but never reaching a full stop. Ron observed the place thoughtfully, thinking of different strategies on how to slip past undetected. The only entrance seemed to come from the front gates, which were heavily guarded.

The rest of the trip was made in silence, although before seeing Southstairs there wasn't much conversation anyway. Ron figured this man to be merely a pawn. Maybe he would become something more under Morrible's rule, but until then, Ron remained his superior.

They finally arrived at an unimpressive two-story cottage on the edge of a forest, the outskirts of the city quite close. The man stepped in front of Ron and knocked twice on the damaged door, paused for a time, and then beatit another four times. The man who answered was not hooded, striking Ron as the first time he had seen an ally.

"Weasley." It was not a question, but more of a scrutiny. He didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Markku has been waiting for you. Go down the hall to the last room on your right." He turned, unresponsive, and practically disappeared in what was probably a living room.

Ron followed his instructions, closing the door behind him upon entering the room. Markku was already waiting, eliciting a stare from his naked face. His eyes were the most noticeable trait, an unforgiving blue that never warmed. His hair was ebony, shagging to the nape of his neck and cloaking his weak jaw, with a nose seeming too large for his face and a mole on the side of his mouth.

"So…" Ron began, seeing that the other man would not say anything of his sudden indiscreet method.

"So…" Markku repeated. "First, Weasley, I want to thank you for the work you've invested for us and our cause these past few days. Out success has been greater than before."

Ron grinned. "You're quite welcome. Of course, I expect my own reward eventually."

"In due time." Markku waved a hand, but nodded in agreement. "Now, if I may, we will discuss out plan of action."

"Next plan?" Ron frowned.

"Yes," Markku clucked impatiently. "We've succeeded in setting Lady Glinda on edge, and now, I believe we should increase our actions. Make everything bigger. We've caused enough riots that now, we have to intensify our warnings. I hope you saw Southstairs on your way over?"

"It looks as though the only way to access it would be to stun or kill the guards at the beginning and just magically unlock the gate," reasoned the Death Eater.

"And you think it'll be that simple?" Markku asked genuinely.

"Magic tends to simplify everything," Ron drawled smugly. "A well placed killing curse will take care of the guards. Since the jail isn't magically enhanced, breaking Morrible out shouldn't be too inconvenient. Not a problem."

"The Gale Force is under heavy training: their weapons fire very quickly." Markku held up a finger in reminder. "Faster than you can cast a shield. What will we do about their guns?"

"If we know what we're doing, we can disarm all of them before attacking," Ron shrugged, unconcerned at the mention of guns. They seemed almost childish to him in the face of a wand, even more so looking at the quality of Oz's blast-from-the-past society. "You really shouldn't be concerned. If the men are rounded and know what to do, it'll be a cinch."

"It's settled, then," Markku confirmed. "Soon, we break into Southstairs."

* * *

"…And so yesterday, I walked in on Fiyero and Hermione kissing in my rooms. My rooms!" Elphaba was saying to Glinda, watching as the blonde's eyes widened in surprise.

A wide grin spread across Glinda's face. "Did they…you know…"

"Glinda!" Elphaba chastised, though she was smiling. "Not that I know of, and you shouldn't be asking anyway! I think I scared them off, though; they've both been candidly avoiding me all day. Fiyero actually ran when he saw me coming down the corridor."

"Or, you know, they could just be searching for another place to make out," Glinda suggested. "I assume you've changed your password now?"

"Of course," Elphaba said. "Fiyero's got another thing coming if he thinks my rooms are open to the public."

Glinda giggled. "It wasn't a very public thing they did." Her voice lowered huskily, as though expecting others to be listening. "Elphie, do you remember when _we _made out in Fiyero's rooms and got ourselves kicked out?" Elphaba's absent smile transformed into a wide-open grin, baring her teeth at the memory. That was the day their feelings for one another were confessed wholly, and they became a couple. The blonde turned smug. "I take it from that expression that you remember very well."

"How could I forget?" Elphaba replied. "It's one of the memories I use to cast a Patronous, actually."

Glinda looked touched, a blush creeping up her neck, when someone banged on Elphaba portrait door. "Ignore it," the green witch ordered firmly, more to herself than the blonde. "We've been interrupted enough already."

Glinda opened her mouth when a furious flurry of fists connected with the portrait door. "Elphaba, it's Fiyero! I'm sorry, all right? It was Hermione's idea anyway. Just let me in!"

Elphaba gave Glinda a steady look. "What do you make of this?" she asked. "Should I let him suffer a little while longer?"

"As lovely an idea that is, Elphie, you should probably let him in. I have no trouble with him having an aneurysm trying to pry open the door, but he'll keep pounding until we've absolutely no peace to talk. I just can't let that happen," the blonde said matter-of-factly. She laughed. "Do you really think it was Hermione's idea?"

"No," Elphaba replied immediately. "Hermione's too careful, and besides, this is something only Fiyero would think up. He was probably planning on it ever since he caught us doing the same thing. Anyway, he's the only other one to know the password."

The pounding became more frantic, and Elphaba placed the mirror lightly on her armchair. "Stop it!" she commanded, her voice rising to a yell. "I'm coming already!"

Glinda was left to her own devices for the time it took for Elphaba to open the portrait door and yell at the prince. "Fiyero, I was…no, _am_ talking to Glinda. If it's important, talk fast, but anything otherwise and I'll throw you out."

"May I come in?" Fiyero asked meekly, hoping that the green witch wasn't still furious about Elphaba's Room Incident, as he'd begun to call it even outside of his mind.

Elphaba grumbled, but stepped aside. It wasn't as though she was really angry with Fiyero, but rather, she was annoyed that her privacy had been invaded. Of all the possible places to hide, they had to choose her rooms. "Just don't touch or do _anything_," she finally warned.

Smiling, Fiyero sauntered into the living room and spotted the mirror on the chair arm. He picked it up. He looked fascinated at the device and grinned at the blonde. "Hello, Glinda!" he said jovially, receiving a genuinely pleased smile. "How're you?"

"Fine," Glinda replied, amused. "And I assume you to be the same, considering what Elphie told me about the antics going on in her rooms."

"She's turning everyone against me!" Fiyero cried dramatically, turning to the green witch. "Elphaba, I thought that you were my friend!"

"Not anymore," Elphaba scoffed, her face completely unchanging, although Fiyero knew she was toying with him.

"I'm hurt," Fiyero said, still grinning. "I may have to go to the Hospital Wing." Even if Glinda weren't tangibly present, whenever the three were together happily, it was a reminder of times long past, of when their troubles were irrelevant. The days where society did not interfere with them personally, and worry came in the form of the next History essay or exam in Life Sciences.

Elphaba shook her head and, snatching the mirror from Fiyero's grasp, clutched it to her chest before remembering someone was there. "Was there a reason for you to come here besides to drive me insane?" she asked the ex-scarecrow.

"There might be," Fiyero said before being overtaken by seriousness. "Snape asked me to see how the Dreamless Sleep Potions were helping you."

"You can tell him that they've been really helpful," declared the witch. "I haven't had anything quite as bad as those nightmares since I began using them."

"Although, Elphaba, you can't continue to use them much longer," interjected Glinda. "They're issues you eventually must work out on your own. I want to help you through it when you run out of potions."

"Of course, Glinda." Elphaba rolled her eyes where Glinda couldn't see. "Whatever you say."

"She's right," Fiyero agreed, sitting on the edge of Elphaba's bed, relieved she didn't stop him after the other day. He certainly wasn't going to complain, being that bedside privileges were much more comfortable than having a conversation and sitting on the stone floor.

"Quiet," Elphaba snapped. "I know what I'm doing, okay? The way everyone is warning me, it's as if I have no self-control. I'll be fine." Not only had she slept full nights, but Elphaba's color was returning. No longer was her complexion pale green, but her verdant hue was looking normal and healthy.

"You _do_ look much better now, and well rested," Glinda commented timidly.

Elphaba turned her nose up at her ex-boyfriend, eyebrow raised in triumphant question. "You see? Even Glinda agrees that I look fine."

"That _doesn't_ mean that you're completely healthy." Fiyero glared at Glinda for making Elphaba complacent. "What exactly are you going to do when the potions run out, then? Snape won't allow you any more."

"I suppose I'll 'work out my issues'," grumped Elphaba. She sighed loudly, "Okay, let's talk about something else."

Fiyero was about to object, but caught Glinda glaring at him in warning and decided to initiate another subject instead. "So, uh, Glinda," he coughed. "How are things in Oz? Elphaba won't tell me anything."

Glinda frowned. "Actually, things are…normal. There haven't been any riots for up to a week now."

"I would place that as _too_ quiet," Elphaba offered.

Glinda nodded earnestly. "Right," she said, "and I don't know why they've stopped. Nothing has changed, and no one's been brought into custody. I feel as though I should be expecting something."

"You think that Markku is organizing something bigger, potentially more dangerous?" Elphaba asked, while Fiyero watched thoughtfully. "Isn't there Gale Force searching for a hideout?"

"I've sent them on wild goose chases all around the city, but there's still nothing to go on," Glinda whined, resting her chin in her hand. "It's always as though they…disappear into thin air. I'm not sure what to do anymore."

"Just keep an eye out," Elphaba advised, her eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"If you hear anything strange, even if it seems completely implausible, take action immediately. We know from experience that if it's unlikely, it's probably true," Fiyero said, gazing over Elphaba's shoulder to look at the blonde.

"Oh, and _tell me_," stressed Elphaba, earning a slight smile, although Glinda still looked uncertain. Elphaba couldn't imagine the pressure the blonde was facing, having this havoc wreak her already frustrating agenda. The green witch wanted to reach out and touch her reassuringly, for when Glinda's face fell, she looked so vulnerable and hopeless that Elphaba wanted to physically turn it around. "Don't worry, Glinda. I have complete confidence that if anything happens, you'll be able to fix it." _And if you can't_, she added to herself, _I'll come back and fix it for you_.

Glinda mumbled Elphaba's name, when a bang came from behind Glinda, causing her to squeal and set the mirror down roughly in panic.

"Lady Glinda!" the intruder was urgent, sucking in air from running. "Southstairs has been broken into. You have to come immediately. The perpetrators are using magic; you're the only one who can stop them. I'll wait until you're ready. Please hurry."

It seemed as though the man left, because Glinda took up the mirror again, her face pale, and her friends' stricken. "Glinda, don't go," Elphaba choked. "If they're using magic…who knows what could happen to you? Hold on, I'm coming now."

"No!" Glinda shrieked, waving the mirror in frustration. "No. Elphaba Thropp, you do not leave England. If you do, I will see to it you're locked away. I'll do it, you understand me?"

"Glinda, Southstairs has never been broken into. _No one_ has ever succeeded breaking into Southstairs before," Elphaba reiterated. "What if-"

"No, you'll do no such thing," Glinda growled. "I have to go. Goodbye." The mirror turned back into a tool for admiring oneself as Glinda vanished from view.

Elphaba slammed the mirror down and began to pace rapidly. "I can't stay here," she ranted, "not when I know Glinda's in trouble. What does she want me to do? Just stay here like a good little witch and let her get hurt?"

"No," Fiyero answered, attempting to remain calm. "She's supposed to be prepared when things like this happen. Wait for Glinda to contact you again. If you go rushing back, you don't know what to expect. It could be a false alarm. Glinda would murder you – she's a fierce little thing; has she ever been angry with you?"

"All the time," Elphaba smiled wryly. "Especially during the war, but…that has nothing to do with it! Fiyero, you know I can't just sit and wait here. I should go back. What kind of a girlfriend would I be, neglecting Glinda when she needs me?"

"A wise one," Fiyero replied, sputtering over his words. "Look, you have to trust her in that she knows what she's doing and her judgment is accurate. It's too risky, even if Glinda _is_ in trouble. Going back will only create more work for her."

Elphaba paused in her steps to throw Fiyero a steady glare. "You know I won't just-" she stopped, realizing that, for once in his life, Fiyero was correct. "Here's my last word on the matter, then. If anything goes wrong, and I mean the slightest little thing, I'm going back."

"If you do, I'm coming with you," Fiyero promised, rising from his seat to face her. "I'll be right by your side, if anything goes wrong, for you and Glinda."

Elphaba sighed, moving back slightly to warn Fiyero off, who was about to clasp her shoulder. "Let's hope for our sakes that it doesn't come down to that," she muttered grimly.

**Coming up: Elphaba takes rash actions. Kind of.**

**Yay! Now, the plot thickens! I'm excited for your reactions…**

**-Wolfie**


	5. Nobody Needs to Know

**The title from chapter four was from…Godspell. Congrats to Anne Flint, Raiko Toho, Raspberry Seltzer, Yank2324, and C-rozzle jo.**

**I'm sorry I haven't been replying to reviews, but I've been…busy and preoccupied, among other things. I really appreciate them. I really do. I'll try to find time to do it this time around.**

_Chapter 5: Nobody Needs to Know_

Elphaba Thropp generally considered herself an honest woman, although she was reluctant to admit to fear. She would say that there were four times in her life that she was truly terrified. The first time was striking out against the Wizard, the discovery of independence away from his reign so new and exhilarating that it frightened her. The second time being at Kiamo Ko, when her heart was filled with doubts and reluctance to go through with the plan of faking her own death. The third time was not the final battle against Voldemort, but rather, the night before, when the likelihood of finishing triumphant was unnervingly equal to failure.

The last time Elphaba truly feared would be the morning after the break-in to Southstairs. She bothered not to take a Dreamless Sleep Potion, for she didn't expect to sleep much, which she did not. The green witch strove to contact Glinda, to no avail, and settled for pacing most of the time, watching the sunrise as it warmed her living room. There came a point that she could no longer stand to wait in silence, her tension physically uncomfortable, and she decided to visit the one person who could understand the situation's seriousness.

She trotted up a few flights of stairs, not in hurry, but simply in anxiousness, hoping the mirror in her robes would activate. She slowed down at a portrait of an old wizard, who smiled at her tenderly and asked for the password.

"Ozdust," Elphaba replied, sighing at the implications of Fiyero not changing his password since arriving from Oz six years past. She received an approving nod from the elderly wizard, and he swung open to reveal a deserted living room.

Engrossed in her own thoughts and worry, the green witch stalked through the living room to Fiyero's bedroom without looking up, throwing open the doors. "Fiyero, I-" she began, before noticing Fiyero's bed, or rather, whom he was sharing it with.

"Fae!" Hermione shrieked, scrambling in vain to cover herself, despite the fact that she was more or less fully clothed. "What are you doing in here?"

"I-I was just…looking for Fiyero," Elphaba stuttered, failing to hide a grin. She felt embarrassed about not having knocked first, but couldn't help find the display amusing.

"How did you get in?" Fiyero asked, yawning through half the sentence. He sat up and stretched, his hair mussed from sleep, or otherwise.

"You haven't even _changed _your password since we got here," Elphaba explained, not bothering to bring up that she knew it for the purpose of doing just what she interrupted. Her gaze fell on Hermione, who was thoroughly unimpressed. "I suppose that I'll just wait…outside, then, shall I?" Without waiting for a reply, she shut the door and retreated to the far end of the living room.

Hermione waited until the door was shut to turn and scowl at Fiyero, who was watching with amusement he didn't bother to conceal. "Lock the door next time," she ordered in a growl before disappearing to the bathroom.

\

In the living room, Elphaba attempted to call Glinda again, remembering why she had left her own rooms. She leaned back on her seat and waited for someone to appear. Finally, Hermione walked out sleepily, appearing cooler than before.

"Sorry for yelling at you earlier," she apologized. "I just didn't expect you to do that…again."

"I should have knocked first." Elphaba shrugged indifferently.

"Yes, you should have," Fiyero agreed, coming out of the room behind his girlfriend. "Hermione, I'll talk to you at lunch, okay?"

"Of course." The bushy haired witch kissed him briskly on an unshaven cheek. "I'll be with Harry. Meanwhile, you and Fae can talk to your heart's content."

"Elphaba," Fiyero began, sitting down next to the green witch once Hermione was gone. "Why is it you feel the need to interrupt us – me – so early in the bloody morning?"

"Early? Fiyero, it's past nine. Classes would be well in session if this was during the semester," Elphaba knew the prince was never astute with time, or classes, for that matter. She went on about why she came. "That doesn't matter, though. Glinda still hasn't contacted me, and I'm worried."

"Elphaba," Fiyero started gingerly, viewing her oddly. "You've got that look…I mean, are you all right?"

"Doesn't she know how worried I am? No one has ever broken into Southstairs; it's practically unspoken that no one would ever do it right! She could be hurt. She could be dead," Elphaba ranted, wincing visibly at the thought. "I've been up half the night worried, waiting for her, trying to call her…"

"Elphaba!" Fiyero waved his hand, trying to get her attention, but finding himself ignored. "Elphaba!" he yelled louder, breaking the green witch's thoughts and gaining her gaze. "Maybe Glinda's just…sleeping in. It was late when she had to go last night, and maybe she thinks, as I do, that nine is a pretty ungodly hour to wake," he joked, trying to lighten Elphaba's mood, although his own features were contorted in concern.

Elphaba stopped to give him a disbelieving look, chuckling out of either his stupidity or his incredible ability to dismiss responsibility. "Not helping," she said through gritted teeth while pacing. "I just…I need to know she's safe."

"Elphaba, you're pacing," Fiyero said worriedly, pointing to her feet.

"So it would seem," Elphaba said sarcastically, not in the mood. "I've earned the right, since _Glinda could be hurt_!"

"All right, all right," Fiyero muttered, marveling at Elphaba's one-track mind. "I'm sure that she's held up in a meeting or something. If Southstairs was broken into, she's going to have to search for information as well as delve it out. It's not like Glinda has the leisure time to tell us all about it, especially since it happened to suddenly."

"Well," Elphaba declared fiercely, "if she doesn't contact me by lunch, I'll go to Oz. And don't you dare try and stop me, Fiyero Tiggular."

Fiyero put his hands up in surrender. "I won't stop you, but Elphaba, wait until dinner, at least. You don't know what it's like to be an official," he offered. "I was around Glinda and the Wizard a lot before we came here, enough to know that she wouldn't be able to break away and contact you in the middle of the afternoon."

"Fine," Elphaba huffed. "You're right. Dinner." She let her ex-boyfriend touch her lightly on the back soothingly, and quickly discoverered that waiting until dinner would be irrelevant, as the mirror activated in her pocket.

She hastily pulled it out of her pocket to find the blonde staring back at her. "Glinda," the green witch breathed. "Thank Merlin you're all right, I've been…" Her voice died out to make way for a sharp intake of breath. "What happened to you?" she prompted softly, inspecting Glinda's face through the screen.

"The break-in got a bit…rough," Glinda admitted, touching the side of her face.

"You went?" Elphaba roared. "I told you not to go, specifically because you could get hurt. When you told me not to come to Oz, I didn't, but you went ahead to Southstairs when you knew it was a bad idea. What if you'd been killed?"

"Are you quite done, Elphaba?" Glinda asked softly, looking tired and dejected, even more so with the dark bruise forming green and purple from her jaw and up her left cheek. "I have news about the break-in, but if you're just going to yell at me, I've better things to do. So if you'll excuse me," she said coldly, ready to put the mirror down.

"No, wait, no," Elphaba objected quickly. "I'm sorry, Glinda, I've just been so worried. You can understand that. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to blow up at you."

Glinda looked at her slyly. "Of course I forgive you, but Elphie, Markku assisted a prisoner in escaping. The Gale Force managed to capture one of his men for questioning, but he hasn't said much anything yet."

"And do you know who's escaped?" Elphaba asked eagerly.

Glinda hesitated, knowing that Elphaba would come to Oz without further a word if she admitted it was Morrible who escaped. She shrugged instead. "I don't know who it was," she lied convincingly.

Elphaba frowned, musing over the information. "Why would Markku want to break out an unimportant prisoner? Surely that person has some importance to their group," she thought aloud. "I wonder…about, you know, records or some underlying information."

Glinda nodded as she listened, knowing that Madame Morrible was of grave importance, which turned the situation even more dire that it was already.

"How did they get in?" Fiyero asked. "I used to patrol there; it's the most heavily guarded prison in all of Oz. People can't just stroll in and ask nicely to break a prisoner out."

Glinda thought for a moment. "I actually haven't read the statement from the Force yet. Hold on, I'll read it to you." The two waited for the blonde to retrieve the note, holding it up to peer at the words.

She began reading, "_Lady Glinda, this is the official statement according to Eczolf, Captain of the Guard: Prisoner 10476's cell was invaded at 1:30 this morning by wanted man Markku and his following. The immediate resistance they were met with was hit with jets of light, both red and green in color. When hit with said light, the guards fell in two fashions; when hit with red light, they were rendered unconscious, but with green light, they had been killed. Seven members of the Guard are dead_." Glinda paused, and skimmed her eyes down the following list of deceased regretfully.

"_10476 managed to escape, but one of Markku's men, Sandrich, was captured and is in the process of interrogation. He admits that a newcomer has joined their legion, being the source of the jets of the impacting jets of light." _

Elphaba took a deep breath. "The Stunning hex and the killing curse," she stated to no one in particular.

Glinda nodded grimly. "Exactly. I'm afraid Weasley's found the portal, Elphie."

"Weasley," Elphaba muttered, her nostrils flaring in anger. "Glinda, please, do not go _anywhere_ unaccompanied. The rest of Oz isn't used to that kind of magic, Ron could be doing anything," she commanded. "This is getting personal now. I'm coming to you immediately."

"I don't care how personal it is," Glinda ordered, unaware that she was touching her bruise again. "My orders are still the same as yesterday. In Oz or not, you're still a citizen, and it's a valid and direct order. You stay put, Elphaba," she said warningly. "I'll take care of it."

She glanced away from the mirror and seemed to hiccough, her blonde curls bouncing. "Oh, look at the time. I'll talk to you again when I can…through the mirrors! I love you." Before Elphaba replied, the blonde disappeared, leaving Elphaba and Fiyero alone once again to conspire and brood with the new information.

Elphaba watched as the last of Glinda's appearance faded away, the glare of the light cast off her blonde curls being the last thing to dissipate. She pocketed the device and focused a calculating look at Fiyero before getting up from her seat and heading towards the portrait door.

"Wait!" Fiyero called, springing off his seat after the green witch. "Where are you going now?"

"Somehow, it's worse than she's letting on," Elphaba explained, kneading her hands anxiously. "There's something missing, and it's putting Glinda in danger. I'm going to collect a few things, and then, I'm headed for the portal."

"But how could there possibly be…you're being irrational," Fiyero reasoned.

"You were once an officer of the Guard. How could you not have picked up some absent link – it's obviously there." Elphaba flailed. "I'm going before Glinda has a chance to get hurt."

"No!" Fiyero cried childishly, latching onto Elphaba's lanky arms. "You're being too bloody _rash_, Elphaba. I can't handle you when you're like this. Don't you dare tell me to bugger off-" Elphaba closed her mouth hollowly at the command, looking offended.

"This is just as dire as when we had to leave Oz, Fiyero. You can't expect me to-"

"Listen to me," Fiyero urged, shaking the green witch slightly to gain her undivided attention. "_Listen_." She was gazing intently for him to continue. "You can't leave immediately, or you'll go and get yourself captured. I say, make a plan to wait until sundown. That way, when you've arrived, you've got a shield of darkness to cover you. It'll give you a better advantage. And don't leave without me – I'm going with you."

Elphaba stared at the man indifferently, her delayed reaction becoming one of surprise, eyebrows rising high on her forehead. "You're coming? I didn't think you'd actually want to come along."

"I've been telling you all along." Fiyero let go of his companion. "If I don't go, then both my girls would be in danger. What kind of guy would I be if I let you face those cannibals in Oz by yourself?"

"Are you prepared for tonight?" Elphaba allowed herself a smile.

"Tonight," confirmed the prince, rousing no more than a nod, and then Elphaba left for the door again.

"Don't tell Harry and Severus." She hesitated at the portrait, the wooden face of the canvas cold against her open palm. "Harry's told me before that he wants to visit Oz, but never under these circumstances, and not if he'll figure out why we left in the first place. They don't need to deal with this; it's not their problem, though they're stupid enough to want to stop us."

"I agree," Fiyero said solemnly, leaning against his coffee table. "I don't want Hermione to be there, either, with Markku and Weasley in the background."

"All right, we'll meet in the Entrance Hall at eight. The house elves are long gone by then," Elphaba said. "I'm going to resign from the dueling position, at least temporarily. The school year's starting, and we don't know how long this will take. McGonagall will find other reconnoiters, I'm sure." Fiyero shrugged, giving her an exasperated face. "We don't know how long, this will take, Fiyero, but once Weasley's in Azkaban, we can rest easy."

She made to leave, the portrait door half swung open, the cold air from the empty, wide corridor seeping into the rooms. The green witch seemed to be mulling something over and left, but not before saying over her shoulder, "_Easier_."

* * *

"Fiyero!" greeted Harry, pushing his spectacles up his nose to better inspect the visitor at his door. "Hermione's here, if you've been looking for her." 

Sauntering in, the Winkie prince gave Hermione a wide, stunning smile. "I was wondering, could we talk alone, Hermione…in, uh, private?" he proposed, giving Harry an apologetic expression.

Harry gave them a smirk before leaving. "By the way, Fiyero, Fae told me of some incident in her rooms. I don't know if you remember or anything. Just…uh, try to keep my rooms tidy, eh?" Hermione emitted a terrible shriek before lunging at her friend. "Okay, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He ran out, slamming the door behind him.

The bushy-haired witch turned to her boyfriend expectantly, "Well, what do you want?" she asked, not all flustered. There was a kindness in her expression, telling Fiyero that she was ready to listen to what he had to say, being that he deemed it so important.

"I'm going away for a while," he blurted, forgetting that he was trying to refrain from frankness. "There been some…"

"I was under the impression McGonagall wouldn't send you scouting again until the semester began," Hermione interrupted, looking slightly wounded. "What changed?"

"Nothing's changed, but," Fiyero sighed, "I'm not going out to scout. There's something that needs attending, so I'm going back to Oz."

"What?" Hermione yelled. Fiyero was already cringing, prepared for the inevitable outburst. He had told Elphaba he would slip away with her in secrecy again, but he couldn't leave Hermione in the dark; he cared for the bushy haired witch too much. "What exactly is going on, Fiyero Tiggular? I though you swore you and Elphaba would never return to Oz for, oh, what was that? Personal reasons! Why the _graceful _change?"

Fiyero grimaced. "There are…problems in Oz that Elphaba and I need to take care of. Glinda's been having trouble…is in trouble…a prison's been broken into. It'll help us all in the long run, I swear." He lightly touched a strand of Hermione's hair affectionately.

"Trouble?" Hermione looked concerned. "When are you leaving?"

"Tonight," Fiyero answered, shushing a flustered retort. "Things are bad enough that Elphaba and I need to leave immediately. We want to arrive after dark, because… well, we want to arrive at night."

"Yeah, you mean, to avoid being detected," Hermione said darkly. "If it's so bad, I'm going with you. Don't oppose – you and Fae are going to need assistance. The two of you alone just won't cut it."

Fiyero resisted the urge to scream his objection, for if Elphaba found out that he'd informed Hermione of their plan, she'd kill him. Or worse off, she'd leave without him. "You couldn't possibly understand the threat if you did. I can't let you, no."

"Fiyero," Hermione said, glaring at the man. "I've lived most of my life facing Voldemort. I was in the battle with you; you can trust me enough with this new danger. I didn't become your girlfriend to stew away at home and worry, you know." Fiyero opened his mouth to protest, but the bushy haired witch shut it for him, looking stern. "I'm coming with you, and that's the final word."

Fiyero didn't want to part with her, that much he would only admit to himself, though there were threats. But Hermione was right; she was capable of protecting herself and more. "Fine," he muttered. "But when Elphaba is ready to murder us both - when we arrive in the Entrance Hall after dinner – it'll be _you_ who has to explain it to her."

* * *

"…and that's why he wants to go back to Oz," Hermione concluded.

Harry frowned, lightly tapping an index finger on his chin. "So, why doesn't Fae want us to join them?"

"No idea," Hermione shrugged. "But it's not like it matters. You know how she is. I'm going back with them, and I thought you should know, because you're my best friend."

"I'm glad you told me," Harry said in a sigh, putting an arm around Hermione's shoulder fondly, suppressing a grin, "because now I'm going, too. If there's dire trouble enough for them to leave the way they plan, I need to come as well. Fae and Fiyero joined us to defeat Voldemort, and now it's our obligation to assist them in whatever is it they're trying to do."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day something sensible actually came out of your mouth," Snape cut in, revealing himself from around the corner. His impassive expression was that of the usual, his pasty sneer even more familiar.

"Snape!" Hermione yelped in surprise. "How long have you been eavesdropping?" A blush crept up her cheeks at being caught dishonoring Fiyero's wishes. He had made her promise not to tell anyone, specifically the two she just had.

"Enough to know that I'm going to Oz as well." The Potions Master advanced. "Potter said it once…for once." He smirked at his own little pun.

"Fine," Hermione said, slapping her forehead in defeat. "I think Fiyero and Fae are going to need as much help as they can get, anyway. We're meeting in the Entrance Hall after dinner tonight." She gave the professor a steady glare. "You also might want to resign from being a professor before we leave."

The Potions Professor didn't seem the least bit remorseful for the loss of having to cater myriads of pestering students. He nodded earnestly before turning to leave, greasy hair flinging.

"Wait!" Hermione called after them, as Harry went the other way. The bushy haired witch spread out her arms to both of them in desperation. "Don't tell Fae. Fiyero said she didn't want anyone else to know. For precaution, I suppose. But we'll show up and refuse to back down."

"I'd like to see her try to stop us." Snape's face transformed into a feral grin. "It's four against one, and we're helping her whether she wants it or not."

**Coming up: Ron finds out Elphaba's secret.**

**I've had several questions regarding where Markku's name came from...it apparently means 'rebel' in some language. I looked it up when I was designing his character. **

**-Wolfie**


	6. You'll See

**The title from chapter five was from…Last 5 Years. Congrats to Raiko Toho, Raspberry Seltzer, Courtney Dax, X-Kate-X, Anne Flint, TryDefyingGravity, and Yank2324. **

**I don't know if I'll be able to update again for a bit…there's something involving taking my computer to be re-imaged…or something along those lines. Maybe two weeks, maybe not. **

_Chapter 6: You'll See _

Boredom had struck. Ron anticipated it, really, being that no place was without its downfalls. On a note of elaboration, Markku and three other men kept him out in the hallway of their hideout as they met with the woman who had been broken out of Southstairs that morning. This meant that, in the midst of their imperative scheming, Ron was obsolete. That rendered the Death Eater a pawn in this plan, somehow demoted in the face of the co-heads of this operation.

He didn't mind much, as long as his reward was carried out after everything was concluded. Ron wouldn't put it past Markku to try and cheat his way out of having to capture Thropp, but the risk to him was worth it. _It'll all be worth once I see that look of fear in Thropp's eyes, and hear her screams that I can recall so well, simply because it will be a reaction to something I inflict_.

"Weasley?" Markku prompted, peering out of the room to find the man in question, and then fully leaving the doorway so his three comrades could leave. "Madame wishes to meet with you now. Rest assured, I've spoken highly of you and your participation in her escape, and she's very intent on rewarding you."

"Thank you, Markku," Ron said, standing up and walking over to the doorway. "I appreciate it very much." He paused. "Have you brought up the question of Thropp's identity?"

"I have no doubt," Markku began mysteriously, his face almost masked in the dark hallway and his eyes gleaming, "that she will know her somehow. Madame was a powerful, impacting woman before imprisonment. If Thropp can do magic as you claim, then Madame will recognise her, if not know of her personally."

Ron nodded and stepped into the room, letting the door shut on its own before approaching the figure sitting at a table. "Madame Morrible?" he asked, hesitant to become too close, when he realized that it was the old woman. Ron thought to himself that Morrible resembled an elderly fish.

"No other!" she exclaimed, a would-be comforting smile plastered her heavily made face. "And you must be Weasley. Am I right? Well, sit down, dear, sit down."

Ron gingerly took a seat by the table opposite her, wondering where her accent came from. It was overdone, like an actress from old muggle films, and it did nothing for her image. She looked nothing like the great and powerful leader she was reputed to be, but she was intimidating none the less. She observed him calmly.

"Ah yes. You would be the one with the magical abilities," she said hungrily, and Ron feared foolishly for a moment that she might want to eat him. "Would you care to give me a demonstration of your wand? Something small, perhaps?"

"Yes Madame," Ron nodded, pilfering through his coat to grab his wand. He spoke in the meanwhile, deciding it wouldn't wound him any to exaggerate awe over the woman; perhaps he could soften her up. "It's an honor to have broken you out of Southstairs, and now to finally meet you. I've heard great things of your leadership."

Morrible nodded in approval, either of Ron's case of affection, or of when he uncovered his wand, flicked in the direction of the window shutters, and drew them closed immediately.

"Lovely control," she mused in a low growl, obviously not meant for the Death Eater to hear. "I assume Markku has informed you of the Grimmerie's supremacy in magic. That is why it's in an indecipherable text."

"He's mentioned it once or twice, yeah," Ron said, patting the book lightly from inside his bag. "And I can't read it. But I would think a woman of your intellect and equally inspiring authority could."

"Correct, my dear boy. After many years of dedicationism and study, I am able to discern the spells. It is like a part of me," she bragged shamelessly, holding out a hand for the ancient book greedily. "Would you? I can assure you, for returning this tome, you'll be granted great reward."

Ron smirked, pilfering through his bag to get the book out, although that was the only reason he carried it around. He handed it to the woman with some difficulty, for it was a rather heavy object, but Morrible's meaty arms supported it with pride.

She petted it slightly before opening a few pages and uttering under her breath. Finally, she looked up at the Death Eater. "Your involvement in my rescue, as I'm told, was significant, and for that, I have much to offer."

"Has Markku told you of what I request?" Ron asked stubbornly, not surprised at Morrible's declining shake of the head. To make his point clear, he took the opportunity when the old woman wasn't clutching the book to press his hand against it. He slid it towards himself protectively. Morrible watched, apparently impressed at his straightforwardness, so Ron decided to choose his words wisely. "Have you ever heard of the name Elphaba Thropp?"

The redhead expected some kind of blank look, maybe a chuckle of recognition, or even a guttural wail from Morrible, but certainly not the way her face paled, colour draining from even her concealing powder. She jerked, her girth causing the chair to sway dangerously.

"Yes," the old woman hissed with a frightening look in her eyes. "But what does Miss Elphaba have to do…with you?"

"You see Madame," Ron started, wishing to stay calm under Morrible's breaking façade, "she means a great deal to me. Back where I come from, she's been a source of humiliation. She's what you could call a blood enemy."

"Would you care to tell me more about this?" Morrible asked, her voice hoarse, as though holding something back. Ron proceeded to explain his situation to Morrible: how she'd ruined his prospects of power and just how badly he wanted to squash her like a nasty green insect under his boot.

"So," Morrible summed up after Ron was finished, "Miss Elphaba's been alive all along."

Ron's brows met at the start of his nose. "Of course she's alive. She's been in England for much too long. The only thing I'm worried about in this plan is that she'll alert the citizens once she knows I'm here and turn them against me."

"Oh, my dear boy," Madame Morrible chuckled, letting out long bellows. "My dear Weasley, you've nothing to fear about that. Miss Elphaba wouldn't dare face the Ozians when she herself is a wanted fugitive."

Ron practically choked on oxygen. "A-a fugitive? Really?"

"Yes. Elphaba Thropp struck out against the Wizard, with intent to assist the Animals in the city," she sneered. "Well, it wouldn't do. Just between you and me, it was I who set the public against her. She's got a title, Tthe 'Wicked Witch of the West', not entirely out of my creation. I framed the silly girl, as practice for greater things, really, but if the Ozians see her alive, they will turn frantic and mob her. They'll kill her; they tried to once, and we were all under the impression that they succeeded. But she's a slippery thing, like a snake, really, as her skin suggests…"

"I quite agree," Ron said absently, thinking on the new information. If Thropp was a wanted fugitive, so hated by her own people, then humiliating her wouldn't be difficult. Once she was captured, her could flaunt her in front of the Ozians, torture her in front of them, make her beg in front of them, and be regarded at as a national hero. He would gain both pleasure and status.

"She doesn't seem to be in Oz. She must still be in your world," Morrible said slowly. "She would need to come here to be captured. Lest that occurs, she can't ask for help from anyone. Everyone believes she's Wicked…not to mention dead."

"There is one," Ron noted. "That blonde, Glinda."

Morrible groaned, probably at the new obstacle, but seemingly more so in disgust for the blonde woman. Glinda was in the position she longed to be. "She believes Miss Elphaba is dead too," she noted dryly.

"No, she came to Hogwarts last year. She's knowledgeable of Thropp's livelihood," Ron tone suddenly dropped, "at all angles."

"What do you mean?" Morrible leaned in, anticipating his next words.

"They've become… close," Ron explained flatly. "More than friends. Trotted about the ground hand in hand, kissing. It made me sick."

"They were roommates in Shiz and subsequently became friends," Morrible frowned. "But I would suspect it's always been that way." Her expression changed, from that of deep thought and possible revulsion to that of complacency. "After having _helped,_ and even _loved_ the Wicked Witch, the Ozians would never consider trusting Glinda as their leader, could they? This will definitely benefit my plan in overthrowing her control."

"You'll need proof," Ron grinned, playing along. It seemed their purposes were meant to intermingle. "You'll need to capture both Thropp and Glinda. As long as you lead Glinda into a trap, she'd never forsake Thropp; put them in front of a crowd and they'd create a show for you. From the outbursts we've caused already, I don't doubt Thropp's come back, and if Glinda's in danger, she'll foolishly stumble into anything to help."

"In that case, we shall have to draw Miss Elphaba out, then, won't we?" Morrible smiled wickedly, raking her fingernails over the face of the Grimmerie as if to call it to her. "My dear boy, once this is set in motion… Oz is as good as mine."

* * *

"Minerva, I'm sorry," Elphaba was saying to the Headmistress, standing in the office that used to be Dumbledore's. Elphaba found herself constantly reminding herself guiltily that it didn't belong to him anymore, but McGonagall kept it exactly the same. "I've come to resign before the next semester."

Elphaba avoided the professor's eyes, anticipating and almost visualizing, the disappointed look that would inevitably be present. Upon letting Elphaba into her office, McGonagall had emitted a breathy sigh, indicating she was hard at work with something else, and admitting so. As much as she regretted dumping more work on the Headmistress at the last minute, Glinda took up first priority in her life.

"It cannot wait until after this semester?" McGonagall asked calmly, yet retreating to retrieve the appropriate paperwork to continue their conversation.

"I'm afraid not. I won't be here at all," Elphaba muttered, not knowing anything to amend her words, although she wished she could. It was difficult for her to face disappointment, especially plastered on another's face towards her actions. "Hopefully I'll be back by Christmas break, if you'll accept, of course."

"Of course," the Headmistress echoed as she dripped her quill into an inkwell. The grand peacock feather jittered as she scribbled something among the document concerning Elphaba's resignation, reflecting its magnificent blue and green hues. "There'll have to be an specific explanation, though."

"Well, I can't be specific, per se," the green witch said, watching as McGonagall continued to scribble. "What I can tell you is that they're personal issues. I'll be attending to them away from England, and I don't know when they'll be completed, hence the permanent renouncement."

McGonagall raised her head to look at Elphaba with an odd expression beneath her wide brimmed hat, which reminded the green witch of her own, and therefore, Glinda and her plight. "Does everyone have personal issues now?" she asked exasperatedly.

Elphaba frowned. "Oh, um…what do you mean?" She wanted to sound discreet, but found herself genuinely curious.

The Headmistress did not respond. Instead, she had been ranting the entire time. "Not only do I have to invest my time in trying to find a suitable new Potions Master, but a Duelling Professor, as well. And all in a month; that's about as long as it takes for the good ones to even _consider _applying!"

"Is Snape going somewhere, Minerva? And would you know where he's going?"

"I don't know," McGonagall snapped, sighing as she sunk into her chair. "He wouldn't discuss anything, but said it was 'personal issues', and that his return was amorphous."

Elphaba weighed the odds of Snape knowing her plan. She had every inclination to suspect Fiyero of admitting their mission to the Potions Master, and probably half of the faculty as well. "I see," Elphaba breathed. "When is he leaving?"

"Tonight, just to get on my nerves," McGonagall muttered. She shuffled through the papers on her desk to collect the appropriate one and placed it on the desk in front of Elphaba. "Here, Fae. You'll need to sign this one," she revealed another piece of paper, "and this one," yet another piece of paper, "and this one. And then, it'll be official."

Elphaba scrawled her signature in tidy handwriting, recognizing one sheet to be the same one she signed upon taking up work as a professor. Something like nostalgia found its way into her heart, but it was warded back by a sudden memory of Glinda and the bruise creeping up her delicate jaw.

"Thank you, Minerva. I appreciate your consent," Elphaba spoke as she handed the papers. "And when I come back, I promise to make up time."

McGonagall nodded, dismissing Elphaba with a single wave of her hand. "Good luck," she added as Elphaba nodded.

"Thanks," Elphaba mumbled, watching the door close. She was about to return to her rooms when she made up her mind to take a trip down to the dungeons and visit Snape.

She knocked on one of the doors, bolted tightly into its hinges. It only made a hollow sound that reverberated when she slammed her palm down on it forcefully. "Snape!" she called. "It's Fae. Would you open up?" She hit on the doors a few more times and was about to give up and stalk up to Fiyero's rooms and interrogate him instead when the dungeon doors creaked open.

"Fae." The ex-Potions Master regarded the green witch. "What do you want? If it can wait until later, I'm afraid I must send you away. I am busy." He made to shut the doors again, but Elphaba held onto them.

"What exactly are you doing, anyway?" Elphaba asked.

"I'm leaving later tonight, on a trip of sorts," Snape answered in a monotone, completely in his atmosphere in the dungeons. "I have to prepare for its potential danger, so if you don't mind-"

"I mind, though." Elphaba kept her grip on the metal, uncaring about the sour expression worn by her friend. "Where are you going? I'd like to know. McGonagall said you resigned due to 'personal issues', and that would indicate some sort of scheme."

"Exactly," Snape said, not specifying which part of her speech he agreed with. "It is personal, meaning that it is _absolutely_," he said it slowly as if to ingrain it into Elphaba's memory, "none of your business."

The green witch sighed, peering up at Snape tiredly. "Did Fiyero happen to…I don't know, _relay_ anything to you?"

"And why might I listen to what Tiggular has to say?" sneered the Potions Master. His many years acting as a force against Voldemort while feigning Death Eater loyalty ensured his impeccable ability to lie convincingly. His face was impassive at the suggestion. "Now, if you would excuse me, they are of a personal nature and I must take my leave for preparation. You don't see me prying into your own personal issues."

If Elphaba were paying more attention instead of thinking about her departure that evening, she would have caught on that Snape knew of her of resignation without being told by her. He smirked at the green witch and retreated back into his rooms without a further word, either to mask his own surprise at the confession, or to alleviate himself from further questioning.

**Coming up: Elphaba is quite angry that Fiyero told the others about their trip to Oz…poor Fiyero. **

**-Wolfie**


	7. Far From the Home I Love

**The title from chapter six was from….RENT. Congrats to Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Bella516, TryDefyingGravity, X-Kate-X, Courtney Dax, TheThroppSistersandCompany, The-Good-Die-Alone, melissa Ivory, 0xRENTxOZxHeadx0, Wickedgreenchild, GothPhantom, and Anne Flint. **

**Magnam13: Yep…Elphaba's past will be revealed soon. Won't tell you when, but it's soon. **

**Well, it turns out that my computer won't be re-imaged after all (at least, not until the end of September.) However, I have so much homework and other things that I won't update more that once a week…which is really what I've been doing pretty much all along. **

**Enjoy. :D**

**Chapter 7: Far From the Home I Love**

Elphaba paced on a side of the Entrance Hall, tapping her wand impatiently as it hung on a holster at her side. She had slung a dark colored messenger bag over he shoulder, which housed a change of clothes and other necessary supplies to aid her and Fiyero. She couldn't be angry with the prince for not arriving there, being that it wasn't yet eight, but she couldn't help but be annoyed. After all, being early wouldn't hurt their arrival plan, only perfect it.

In the corner of her eye, there was a moving form, which gave way for Elphaba's exhale of relief. "Fiyero," she began, turning around to face him. "I-"

"-Think you require glasses," Harry finished her sentence, popping up beside her. "Unless I look like Fiyero now."

His humor was out of place, and if anything, increased Elphaba's anxiety. "What are you doing here, Harry?" she asked exasperatedly, noticing the backpack that was trapped by his shoulder blades.

"Hmm…" Harry hummed, avoiding Elphaba's eyes. "I'm waiting for a friend; we're going on a trip. An adventurous one, and I expect it'll probably be dangerous too. But danger's what I do best. You should bid me well."

"And what, might I ask, would this friend of yours be named?" Elphaba prompted, completely certain now that Fiyero had told Harry and Snape about the trip. She was just as certain that twenty other people would know, and her hands would be full ridding herself of them, stifling her plan and therefore risking Glinda's life.

"Well, when he shows up, you can ask him," Harry beamed, his smile triumphant. "Look, there he is now." Elphaba turned to the staircase behind her, glaring at Fiyero with every step he took down towards them. He was impervious to her glares, but he still shook his head.

"Don't give me that look," Fiyero said sternly, but Elphaba's face didn't change. "It wasn't my fault. I didn't tell him; _Hermione_ did!" He pointed to his girlfriend accusingly.

"Cracking under only the most unbearable pressure," the bushy haired witch mused, shoving Fiyero at his accusation.

"And she wouldn't have known anything if you didn't tell her," Elphaba snapped, her fingers itching to slap the Winkie. She balled them into a fist instead. "I thought you'd actually take me seriously."

"I did. That's why they know," Fiyero protested. "We'll need backup."

"Backup?" Elphaba laughed bitterly. "Some fairly clueless backup won't hold us back in the slightest."

"Fae, you'll have to deal with it," huffed Hermione. "We're going to help you whether you like it or not."

"It's like Potter said," Snape stated, coming out from behind them in his usual manner: arriving on the scene undetected. "Without the slightest prompting, you helped us in the war against the Dark Lord. Things would have taken a hideous turn if it weren't for your hand, and so even if we didn't want to help, we'd do it to repay you anyhow."

Elphaba ignored him, turning instead to the bushy haired witch. "How people did you tell, exactly, Hermione?" She refrained from yelling, her voice dripping with malice. "Shall we wait around for McGonagall to arrive, or the Minister?"

"No, it's just us," Hermione said honestly, nodding at each one of them as if conducting a headcount.

"Well then, that makes my job easier," Elphaba snapped. "I'll only have to get rid of three people instead of a hundred!"

"Elphaba," Fiyero began, "they're not going to budge-"

"You hush," she hissed, her expression silencing him immediately. "I'll deal with you later."

"Fae," Harry approached cautiously. "No matter what you say or do, we're not going to leave you and Fiyero without any backup. We're your friends, and we'll stick by you no matter what. You'll just have to live with us for the next few weeks, or months, or however long this will take."

"And what if we're lying?" Elphaba challenged. "What if we're just going back to Oz and never coming back?" Harry was quiet, looking up at Fiyero as if to ask if it were true, which caused the green witch to huff. "You three will go upstairs, unpack, and forget you ever saw or heard of our departure."

"Why won't you let us help you?" Hermione pleaded kindly, approaching Elphaba conspicuously. "If it's because you want to protect us so badly, then that gives us more incentive to help you with something so serious. Don't you think that you'd have a greater chance of success if you had more people with you?"

"It's not that. It's just," Elphaba sighed, "our problems in Oz aren't yours. You've just defeated Voldemort and deserve some peace. Flying off into more trouble with Weasley-"

"Well, that settles it then," Snape interrupted. "We'll have to go now, if Weasley is involved. It's our obligation to clear up the support of the Dark Lord, and Weasley is from our world. It still applies in another."

Elphaba internally kicked herself for accidentally slipping over her composure. "Be that as it may," she said with forced patience, "Weasley is only a small participant in a larger spectrum. I'm sure we can easily take care of him, but after that… there are some aspects of Oz that might… shock you."

"The way you're tiptoeing over your words, I expect you to be hiding something," the Potions Master said with a raised brow. Elphaba looked at Fiyero helplessly, but he just shrugged.

"There's nothing," Elphaba lied smoothly. "It just seems unfair for you to be put in another world. It's quite different, and you shouldn't have to face problems that aren't your own."

"Elphaba," Fiyero cut in warningly. "We need to hurry. We need at least a little sunlight to locate the portal, and it's already past eight. Why don't you just let them come along, and save yourself the argument of three against one that you won't win?"

"Four against one," Hermione reminded, patting his forearm lightly, which made the prince suddenly look uncomfortable.

"Yes, _four_," Elphaba hissed sarcastically.

Fiyero looked between his girlfriend and Elphaba miserably, obviously unable to choose whose anger would be kinder to deal with. He squirmed, "Well, I…am a believer that there is…safety in numbers." Elphaba looked at him warningly. "But," he added hastily, "it wouldn't be fair to place you three in any unnecessary danger."

"You're right," Elphaba said cheerily. "Goodbye."

"Don't be so dismissive," Snape said in a bored tone, which caused Elphaba to cringe. She swallowed any yelling she wanted to do, not wanting to come off desperate.

"Severus," she began honestly. "The more time wasted is the more time that Glinda's life is in danger. Do you understand what that means?" There was something strange about the look the Potions Master gave her, like he was recoiling at the question. The green witch didn't wait for a reply.

"All right, then. Fiyero and I are going to leave, and none of you will follow us." Elphaba's features softened as she looked at Harry. "It's not as though I don't appreciate it, but it's something I thought Fiyero and I agreed would be done alone."

Fiyero made a gesture behind his back, indicating that the other three should follow them out. Harry's hand was on his bag, feeling the cushioning his invisibility cloak provided through the fabric, and grinned.

"All right, Fae," he said loudly. "You win, then. If you're sure you don't need anything now, we'll go back."

Elphaba eyed him suspiciously, not all too convinced, but settled for touching his arm briefly. "I'm sure," she said, still looking at him oddly, and removed her hand. She slipped out the door quickly, with Fiyero following solemnly.

"Quickly," Snape snapped as Harry pulled the cloak out from his bag and untangled it frantically. "Before they get too far away."

"I'm trying!" Harry wailed.

"I'm sure Fiyero will try to delay her a bit," Hermione reminded them, huddling next to her friend as soon as he draped the cloak over their bodies.

"Come on," he muttered to Snape. "We'll walk in unison." They carefully opened the door, leading the way in stalking Elphaba and Fiyero as they walked to the Forbidden Forest, their shadows elongated and cast grimly against the moonlight.

* * *

Outside of the castle, Elphaba stalked down a wide, grassy hill towards the forest, not looking at Fiyero for fear of killing him. It was getting dark: the moon was fully raised, although there were rays of sunlight hidden behind it, illuminating it. Everywhere around them seemed buoyant from the contrasting light sources, especially as they tried to control bouncing down the hill, Elphaba marching angrily.

"Elphaba," he started to say as he followed her.

"Fiyero Tiggular," she said instead, her head trained ahead of them. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I had to tell Hermione at least. I didn't know she'd tell the others to come along," defended Fiyero, his bag flailing at his side as he stove to keep up with his weight being pushed down the hill.

"You really trusted her with that?" Elphaba asked. "Harry's her best friend, Fiyero. You don't think she wouldn't tell him if you were in trouble?"

"Hermione's my girlfriend, Elphaba. You'll have to get used to it. I depend on her like you depend on Glinda, speaking of which, you'd do the same thing I did if our roles were reversed."

"I would not," Elphaba said stubbornly. "You can't use that as a comparison. It's not fair."

"How is it not fair?" Fiyero asked, suddenly working himself up. "Do you think that Hermione and I aren't as sincere as you and Glinda?"

"No," Elphaba replied rhythmically, turning around to face the prince. "I'm saying that when it came time for us to leave Oz, you instructed me not to tell a soul. I wanted, so badly, to tell Glinda I was alive. But I honored your word, sat beneath the trapdoor, and listened to her cry. I made that sacrifice for you, Fiyero."

They walked into the mass of trees, speaking briefly of where they were to go. The forest floor was littered with natural junk, changed since they last went. Newly fallen branches and long dead plants gave way to species growing in other areas.

"Look, I can see how we wouldn't want them to come because of the way people receive you in Oz," Fiyero said in an apologetic tone. "And me as well, since I sided with you."

"You're in luck, though, because everyone thought you died before me," the green witch pointed out.

Fiyero sighed triumphantly, but stumbled over a rock. "We had it all planned out very nicely," he mused.

Elphaba grinned back at him. "Yes, and it worked."

"They'll have to know eventually," complained the prince. "We tied ourselves to these people, Elphaba, and you can't hide from your past forever. It makes us who we are."

"You're right, but I just didn't want them to find out like this." Elphaba stopped walking, looking flustered. "Oh, we're going nowhere at this rate," she muttered. She removed her bag and handed it to Fiyero. "Here, get on." The prince watched as Elphaba backed away slightly to transform with a pop, her coat of fur sleek and gleaming in the moonlight, reminding him greatly of her regular hair.

"Are you sure?" Fiyero asked warily. "I mean, for travel efficiency, could I actually sit on… wouldn't I be heavy… er… um…" Elphaba or not, it was unsettling to ride the back of a panther. Her feral grin was a little too sly to be trustworthy. He would rather situate himself on top of a Hippogriff, like during the battle. At least he was used to it.

Panther Elphaba bore her teeth with impatience, causing Fiyero to chuckle nervous as he slid onto her back, just below her shoulder blades. Her muscles rippled as she moved, her ears pricked for any movement and her yellow eyes scanning the forest floor in front of her in a way that suggested she knew exactly where to go.

"What do we do now?" Hermione hissed in a loud whisper, watching as Fiyero, atop a magnificently large cat, sped away. On their feet, they wouldn't be able to catch up with the pair.

"We'll have to take a chance and transform too," Harry said, removing the invisibility cloak. He rolled it into his bag before his body morphed into that of a lion. After his companions followed, they went off after the others, Hermione securely speeding through the sky, led the way in case Harry and Snape lost the trail from the ground.

A tiny snarl ensued from Harry's paws, and he looked down to find the small black fox that was Snape struggling to keep up with his leaping. From this angle, he looked wily and mischievous, and Harry took a chance at being cursed later by scooping up the fox by the scruff of his neck. Snape flailed at first, then settled for going limp and probably began plotting his means of revenge.

It grew difficult trying to locate Elphaba, since her coat blended into the night, but Hermione led the way as a bullet of movement from the sky. There was a light ahead of them. As they neared it, Harry saw that it was a silvery energy collecting in no particular shape, but in one constellation. It was beautiful to view; he accidentally snapped a fallen branch, which split in two with a loud, stinging crack.

Panther Elphaba halted, her ears twitching madly at the sound. She shook Fiyero from her before slinking along into the darkness, sniffing out the mutilated object. Harry retreated behind a tree and watched as Elphaba slowly padded towards the twig, spotting it with accuracy.

"Elphaba, come on!" urged Fiyero, standing in front of the portal and waving frantically for her to join him. His eyes were darting around in an attempt to find Hermione and the others. "We're not the only things in this forest that aren't rooted to the ground it was probably a centaur or something."

Elphaba transformed back into her regular form and fixed Fiyero with a questioning glare. "Well obviously, but…" Fiyero was looking around, waving for her to come along. "What have you done?" she asked him apprehensively.

"Nothing, but Merlin, Elphaba, we'll be late."

"Okay," Elphaba murmured, making her way over to Fiyero, who had insisted he continue carrying her bag. They both marveled at the swirling color of the portal. "I can't believe we're actually going back," she said blankly. "It's been six years."

"Are you nervous?" Fiyero asked, smiling despite how anxious he looked himself.

"Very much," Elphaba admitted. "But we've no other choice. I'll be damned if we're rendered useless in helping Glinda, or anyone, really." She paused and looked over her shoulder to where their three shadows were for a moment before hiding her gaze from them. The green witch took a deep breath and held out her hand for the Winkie. "Together," she said, as Fiyero took grasp of her offer. They disappeared from view as they entered the portal.

Stepping out from their hiding place, Harry, Hermione, and Snape approached the portal. Snape was rubbing the back of his neck with a prize grimace on his pasty face. "When we get back, Potter," he scowled, "you're as good as dead."

"Because you'd rather I leave you behind," Harry replied darkly, walking towards the portal, but not daring enough to touch it. "Come on, we've no idea what Oz is like. We have to go before Fae and Fiyero run off to Merlin-knows-where." He stepped into the portal, knowing the others would follow silently.

He left the Forbidden Forest virtually untouched by their intrusion, traceless as they left one world to enter another. Traveling through the portal was a lot like traveling with a portkey, but more violent. Their bodies were jerked through a bright, blinding tunnel that was the same metallic color of the outside of the portal. Their heads were knocked together more than once as they were hurtled to the end, not remembering how they got out.

The first thing they heard in this new world was Elphaba, who was shouting a rather extensive curse at them. They had been deposited in a field, tall grasses swaying with the slight breeze. It was a nice night; there were stars twinkling from above and a half-moon casting warm light upon their path. The newcomers were a little stunned, not knowing what they were expecting. If Elphaba was green, perhaps she wasn't the only discolored thing.

Gravity was just the same, and there weren't any watermelons growing on trees. Harry couldn't help but be a little disappointed.

"I made it clear that you three should stay at Hogwarts!" Elphaba bellowed.

"Did you really think we'd sit around when we knew you were walking into danger?" retorted Harry, already up and dusting off. "You aren't getting rid of us, no matter how hard you try."

Elphaba muttered something under her breath that sounded like, "Oh, I've yet to try," before attempting as different approach. "Harry," she said calmly, concerned. "It's not safe for you here."

"We've gone through the damn thing already. There's no use in sending us back," Snape said, his arms folded with authority. "It's pointless to argue. Now, where are we going?"

Elphaba opened her mouth to protest, but Fiyero interrupted her by placing his hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened with rage and she struggled against him, but she was a little too lanky to compare. "Just down the field, there are a few options," he said to the others before focusing on the squirming woman. "Come on, Elphaba. You can't argue forever." He let her go, and she gasped for air, whacking him violently. "No matter what you do, they're here already. We've got a lot to do before sunrise. Let's go." He led the way to the path arm draped over Hermione's shoulder.

"Thanks," the bushy haired witch said, using her elbow to nudge the prince lightly with affection.

Elphaba snarled, not speaking as she also made her way towards the road. It was in the completely different direction Fiyero took, and he smiled sheepishly in apology. "Don't worry about it," Fiyero whispered to his girlfriend as she cast a worried glance at their leader. She'll get over it by tomorrow morning."

All Elphaba heard of their conversation was 'morning', and was thus reminded of their mission. Morning was usually the time she got to speak with Glinda. The green witch hoped the blonde wouldn't be too infuriated that they went against her wishes when they spoke the following day.

* * *

Glinda yawned, not bothering to mask it behind her hand as she flopped down on her bed. It was a long day of mixed emotion, being that they had to go through various accounts of Morrible's breakout, as well as deal with all the Gale Force who were mysteriously killed. The entire day was spent pouring over statements and inspecting the scene.

She felt badly about snapping at Elphaba that morning, knowledgeable that the green witch was simply worried for her. Some days, Glinda felt that Elphaba was the only one who genuinely cared for her as a person, and not just a political leader. She also felt that as long as it was Elphaba who was caring for her that way, it didn't matter that no one else did.

Glinda scrambled out of her day clothes and retrieved her night garments, grabbing her hand mirror on the way to her bed. She spent no time admiring the design of it. Instead, she looked straight back at herself in the reflective surface and uttered her girlfriend's name. She frowned when nothing happened, tapping the thing a little when it was unresponsive. Then, she used her best confident tone, one she used when making a speech in front of an audience. "Elphaba Thropp."

Again, nothing occurred. The only thing the mirror showed Glinda was her own face staring back at her with a slight frown, eyes tired from the day and her frown from her discontent. The wrinkles that formed between her eyebrows, she noted, was from concern.

Elphaba had claimed to never be out of reach from her mirror. She kept it wrapped safety in her robes at Hogwarts. The green witch was hardly the type to lie about something that small and insignificant. Plus, she was also always there to talk. If she didn't answer, what exactly did that mean?

Could Elphaba be angry with her, or just busy? Glinda wished selfishly, for the millionth time, to have Elphaba all to herself in Oz, even if that meant the green witch was confined to that one room.

Glinda could think of no reason as to why Elphaba would leave her mirror unattended, unless she left in a flustered hurry. Maybe she was in a meeting with the Order, or McGonagall about the school year… it hardly seemed fair.

"Calm down, Glinda," she instructed herself, setting the mirror down gently on her beside table. "She could have just forgotten."

_Forgotten_, Glinda thought, drifting into sleep, _about me._

**Coming up: A close call on the road.**

**Hmm…I'm just slightly annoyed that I didn't get into Advanced Handbells…I've been paying my dues longer that some other people have that **_**did**_** get into it…and I can actually read the notes and everything. Grr. I don't think Mr. Juncker likes me very much. **

**-Wolfie**


	8. Easy as Life

**The title from chapter six was from….Fiddler on the Roof. Congrats to Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Dark-Angel-874, Yank2324, TryDefyingGravity, Anne Flint, mimi chan, Defying Gravity 728, melissa Ivory, and StevenQ.**

**Kudos to the 100****th**** reviewer, Defying Gravity 728.**

**And Lurline, thanks to everyone else that has reviewed! –bows- **

**Magnam13: Hermione's form is an owl…sorry I didn't make it clearer. It was mentioned in the previous story. Hehe. **

**I gave in. I was bored (but should be doing math and English homework, so I updated earlier). Who knows when chapter 9 will come, though?**

**Hope you like it.**

**Chapter 8: Easy as Life**

Their only stops lasted no longer than ten minutes, and after close to eight hours of walking a winding, dusty path, Elphaba, Fiyero, Harry, Snape, and Hermione were completely spent. Elphaba hardly spoke during the trip; she only opened her mouth to express her plan of action and to negotiate changes in their directions. Finally, she turned to her friends, not entirely forgiving for their tricking her into letting them come along.

"I think it is due time to find some shelter," she finally suggested, mainly to Fiyero. "The sun's coming up." Just as she predicted, there was a ripple of orange light in the darkened skyline, which illuminated the clouds to look like giant, fluffy fruits.

"Why can't we walk during the day?" Snape complained as he ambled over to her side.

"I don't know about you, Snape," Elphaba snapped, shaking out her booted foot to rid herself of cramping, "but I'm bloody exhausted. I want to fall over and sleep on the road, and whilst sleeping, we wouldn't find ourselves on the winning side of a fight now, would we? Excuse me, I need to talk to Fiyero." She dragged her ex-boyfriend away from the group, who began conducting their own conversation, but most likely was really attempting to eavesdrop.

"I'm hoping you aren't still mad at me…us," Fiyero started hopefully. He kicked a rock on the road, which skidded into the nothingness of grass.

"No, I was never…mad," Elphaba gently edited him. "More annoyed that you swindled me into letting them come along. But…Fiyero, have you any idea of where we could stay?"

"You don't think Kiamo Ko would still be abandoned, do you?" Fiyero said skeptically, hesitating before suggesting it.

"Probably." Elphaba snorted back her laughter at the though. "It might be considered that my ghost still roams inside the castle walls." she looked at him earnestly. "There's always the option of human detection spells before we enter the area; I think it's a plausible idea."

"From there, we could strengthen out plan, and maybe even our forces," Fiyero decided. "Bursting into the Emerald City and demanding co-operation might very well get you killed…by Glinda."

"Where's Kiamo Ko, do you reckon?" Elphaba wondered aloud, looking into the distance. Miles of fields stretched before them, which gave way to a likely assumption that they were in Munchkinland. Just before the brightening skyline were the vague outlines of mountainous peaks.

Fiyero rotated in a full circle. He wondered if he could pull of a formless enough answer to satisfy the green witch and yet not reveal that he had no idea. "Ehm… err," he mumbled.

"Well, we're not just going to stand here all day are we? Unless this is your idea of shelter, of course," Snape practically whined, looking utterly lost in his robes against the background of rolling fields.

"My family's got a castle we could stay in; it's called Kiamo Ko, but-" Fiyero began, but he was cut off by Hermione's shriek of excitement.

"Your family owns a castle?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed. She recieved a confused nod from her weary boyfriend. "How do you mean, exactly? With tall gates and secret passageways and trapdoors and so on?"

Elphaba smirked, nodding for Fiyero and clapping him on the back. The tired prince jerked at the contact. "Lots of trapdoors, yes," she muttered. "It'll be sufficient enough for us to stow away and develop our plans, unless Fiyero's forgotten where it is."

"We could always ask directions. It'll save us Tiggular's aimless blabbering," Snape suggested. He nodded at an approaching man that was coming up the road. The man was hunching forward with something suspended over his shoulders. "What's it called – Kiamo Ko?" Without waiting for a reply, the Potions Master bravely took a step in the direction of the stranger.

Fiyero howled before grabbing the shoulders of Snape's robes and tugging him back. "You don't understand," he whispered harshly. "We can't just go up to any person and make ourselves known."

"Fae, are you feeling all right?" Hermione asked curiously. She reached to place her palm on the witch's suddenly very pale green forehead, but was swatted away. Elphaba was busy squinting at the approaching man- a Munchkin, by the looks of his poor height- who was lugging water in buckets suspended on a wooden pole that was on his shoulders.

Fiyero turned around to look at Elphaba with a panicked expression. "Elphaba!" he hissed, as though she knew what to do. There wasn't any time, nor a suitable place to conceal herself, especially not with three oblivious people around them. "Harry, your invisibility cloak! Get it out now!" Fiyero ordered. He caught the fabric from the slightly panicked wizard and threw it to Elphaba as though it were a hot potato.

Elphaba slipped the cloak over her head. Fiyero watched as she disappeared when the fabric cascaded over her body. Elphaba backed away from the center of the road. Snape dubiously eyed where she stood, but Fiyero promptly kicked him in the shin as the Munchkin stopped to speak.

"Lovely day, sir," Fiyero greeted the Munchkin with forced cheerfulness.

"Ay, it is," replied the Munchkin. "Though a little early for you to be travelin', when the sun's barely showin' its colors." He peered at Fiyero intently. "I hope you don't mind my sayin' so, sir, but you look an awful lot like the old Winkie Captain of the Guard. Any relation?"

"Relation? Of course not," Fiyero denied shakily, wishing the Munchkin would suddenly find something else to do. "I've never even seen the man, never mind met him! Besides, the name's R…ifoye," Fiyero concluded awkwardly. The Munchkin looked at him skeptically. Fiyero slung his arm around Hermione's shoulder, grinning proudly. "Rifoye Granger. And this is…my wife, Hermes, and our traveling companions."

Hermione shot him a scandalized glare, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Elphaba snickered through her panic. She wondered if it was the lies Fiyero spun that unnerved the bushy haired witch or the title he gave her.

"Forgive me, Master Rifoye," The Munchkin swayed under the pressure of his buckets. "Th' name's Kirkus. So, where are you all headed this fine day? It isn't safe t' be wanderin' unpopulated places, 'specially so close to the poppy fields," he warned. "With the break-ins at Southstairs, y' never know what to watch for."

"Speaking of which, has there been any news of the break-in?" Fiyero asked casually. He felt Hermione squeeze his forearm threateningly.

"Not enough, tha's for sure," the Munchkin answered, his expression turning to genuine honesty. "Lady Glinda always wants to clean up tha' mess before worryin' us all to death," he chuckled. "News of who escaped, though."

"Really? She said who it was?" Fiyero asked eagerly, still in the dark about the information. He wondered why Glinda would tell all of Oz before her best friend and lover.

"Ay. It was Morrible," the Munchkin replied darkly, as though everything would be translated at the name, which it was. "Some people believe that the riots and Southstairs was the Witch's doing."

Elphaba whipped her hands to her mouth to muffle the swearing she couldn't control, watching Fiyero visibly stiffen. If Weasley was running about Oz with the Grimmerie, and helped Morrible escape…the implications did not add up to anything particularly pleasant.

Fiyero hesitated. "Is that what you believe?" he asked, receiving an uncaring shrug. "But how could that be possible? The Witch died a good six years ago – regardless of how wicked she was, no one can come back from the dead."

"Well, not tha' Witch doin' it, per se, but you know," mumbled the Munchkin uncomfortably. "Her supporters. It's said they don't support her of their own free will, but from spells an' everything she put on people."

"Look," Fiyero reasoned, shifting his weight. "The Witch is dead. A whole bunch of people witnessed it and saw her melt. Way I see it, any spells she cast would have worn off by now."

"I'm so sure, Master Rifoye. She was the wickedest thing Oz has ever seen fer cent'ries, an' tha' includes her sister!"

Fiyero ground his boot into the dirt on the road, not caring if anyone noticed, so long as it subdued his growing temper. "Tell me, Master Kirkus, have you ever seen the Witch harm anyone or anything?"

"Well, I s'pose it's tha' lasting effects, y'see," the Munchkin said, looking at Fiyero oddly, obviously detecting his temperament. "I saw nuthin', but there were stories. Rumors, carried over by tha' wind. She rode on a broomstick," Harry chuckled at that, covering his mouth in a cough to cover himself, "and brought misfortune to all she passed. Even the great Wizard had to retire after she died, stress an' all."

"There's also the theory that rumors are exactly what they are: rumors," hissed the Winkie prince. "Everyone told stories like they knew what was going on, but all it was were stories passed on. No one actually saw her do anything wrong, really, so on what grounds do we dwell to condemn her?"

The Munchkin raised a hairy eyebrow and guffawed slightly. "Well, I never," he whistled, "_ever_ in my life though I'd hear that'. Defendin' the Wicked Witch, sir, it outta be a crime."

"I'm just…used to defending those who never got a fair chance to explain themselves," Fiyero amended, hoping Elphaba was listening. "Trying to figure both sides of the story. It's nothing that should concern you."

"If you say so," Half hesitant and half amused, the Munchkin made to wave his hand, but he was supporting the full buckets.

"Excuse me," Hermione began, finding her voice. She obviously was not ready to pretend to be the quiet, little wife. "We wanted to ask you directions. You see, it's, uh, easy to lose track of where you're going around here."

"So it is. Lengen'ry, in fact," the Munchkin bellowed. Hermione beamed at playing up to the ruse correctly. "I can tell you anywhere you wanna go, just…why're you wearin' yer bathrobes?" he asked, motioning his head towards Hermione, Harry, and Snape.

"Oh, we're from…Quox," Fiyero interrupted hastily, not allowing Hermione to speak, although she managed to squeak out some syllables. "And I think we'll be on our way now. The sun's up, and I remember the way we were supposed to go. Thank you."

He tugged Hermione along the road. The other followed, smiling politely as they passed.

"What the hell is going on, Tiggular?" Snape hissed once they were out of earshot of the Munchkin, who ambled along in the opposite direction. "We've still no idea where we're going, and yet you deny help. This runs deeper than that break-in, doesn't it? First, you deny your identity and then, you stand up for some…witch? Wicked Witch? How-"

"Ask no questions and you'll receive no lies," Elphaba recited menacingly from beneath the cloak.

"Fae?" Harry asked, his eyes flickering over to the general direction Elphaba's voice came from. "Could you take off the cloak? I mean, it's a bit…odd talking to thin air, you know."

"Yes, but that would by hypocrisy, because you do it all the time," Elphaba pointed out smartly, keeping the cloak around her. "Fiyero's right – in this light, I'd say Kiamo Ko is just through that forest."

"A forest in the middle of a field, Fae?" Hermione asked as she squinted through the distance.

"It's that black speck all the way down the road, and it's not very dense, either," Elphaba said, pointing, before she realized that no one could see what she was doing. She sighed. "We'll have to stop until tonight. We all need the rest anyway, and it's safer to travel in the dark. Up ahead is some rickety old farmhouse I doubt is inhabited; we can rotate guard duty."

Harry yawned, moaning annoyingly as he stretched his back. "Okay, Fae, you can go first," he mumbled. He stumbled over the dirt road and into grasses that came up to his thighs.

"Fine, but I'll wake _you _in about two hours," Elphaba replied, following the Boy-Who-Lived to the mostly demolished farmhouse.

"But what am I supposed to wake the rest of us for? What do I watch out for?" he asked as he plopped down into a stall and leaned his head on the doorframe.

Elphaba uncovered her head, a hovering green face, and smirked at Harry. "If absolutely anyone comes near, we have to leave," she told him earnestly. "Anybody."

They settled without argument, joints buzzing from the miles they walked on the uneven landscape. Hermione sat down beside Fiyero, watching his face as he slipped into a lineless, peaceful expression. "Your wife, Hermes?" she questioned flatly.

Fiyero opened one eye to look her. "I was thinking on my toes."

"But your wife?" Hermione whined.

"Would you rather I gave Snape that title?" he offered, handing her his coat to use as a pillow, and Hermione giggled.

"And what's this about a castle, Master Rifoye?" she asked, not fully comprehending what that implied.

"You'll like it. I'll give you a tour and everything," Fiyero winked. "Free of charge."

Elphaba sat down, wrapping the invisibility cloak around her tightly and leaning her back against the side of the house. She hadn't expected to run into civilization for a while, and the Munchkin shook her up. If he spoke a little bit more, her entire identity would have been revealed to her friends, and who knew what they would do after that?

_Defendin' the Wicked Witch, sir, it outta be a crime_, he had said, and he seemed an honest enough man. Even with Glinda in power, trying to knock sense into the Ozians after the Wizard would be tough, and it would jeopardize not only the blonde's established career, but also her life.

_Things couldn't just be easy for a change, _she thought, smiling wryly, _but then again, I'm Elphaba Thropp. Nothing is ever simple when I'm involved._

**Coming up: Nosy English citizens (AKA Harry, Hermione, and Snape).**

**-Wolfie**


	9. Stranger to the Rain

**The title from chapter seven was from….Aida. Congrats to Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, melissa Ivory, X-Kate-X, TryDefyingGravity, Yank2324, StevenQ, Anne Flint, and Courtney Dax. **

**I'm sorry I haven't replied to reviews again, but I've been getting way too much homework…heh heh. I barely had time to get this up. Thanks for all of the reviews…I'll try to get around to it this time around. **

**And CardboardCreative was a _huge_ help in writing Taniko's accent. Thanks muchly, friend! **

**Chapter 9: Stranger to the Rain **

Splinters flew in every direction as the log blew up. Ron growled and drew his wand away from it. A small fire had formed where the wood used to reside, and he imagined for a moment that it was Thropp who was on fire. He had seen neither hair nor hide of the green witch since he had arrived in Oz; he was now beginning to think that he would have had better chances at catching her back in England. The riots should have been bait enough for her to come through the portal, but apparently, he had not organized his plan well enough.

He watched as what was left of the log crackled and blackened, while indulging in the thought of Thropp's abnormal skin crackling and melting away like wax. _A fitting end for her, really, _he thought. _Burning a witch. If I'm lucky, I could even do it in the Emerald City. The citizens would definitely cheer me on_.

Bored, he watched as the last of the log turned to ash. He was startled out of his daydream by a small squirrel darting past him. The Death Eater yelped and threw the killing curse with his wand. His precise aim earned him the tiny nuisance's transformation into a lifeless ball of mussed fur at his feet.

"That poor rat did nothing to you," someone scolded behind Ron. His tone was amused, and even sarcastic.

Ron turned around to catch a glimpse at the intruder with his wand at the ready, gripped tightly in his hand. Markku was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. "It could have even been an Animal," he chastised, and that was when Ron knew he was kidding.

"What do you want?" the redhead asked irritably as he put his wand away.

"Madame has requested our presence for an immediate assembly. Taniko has returned, with…interesting news, to say the least, I think." Ron vaguely remembered the man in question, not as a group member or even a particularly notable person, but an allied acquaintance of the rebellion. Ron cursed himself - only those of meager importance recalled people like Taniko.

"News? You mean of Thropp?" Ron queried, anticipating any type of information he could gather.

Markku shrugged indifferently. "Maybe," he said. "Taniko can explain it better than me." The two men retreated back to their hideout and was led into a dining room that was exclusively taken up by Madame Morrible and Taniko.

Morrible was sitting at the end of a long table, accompanied by a short, balding man with watery eyes and a confident posture. They both looked up from their conversation when the door opened to reveal Markku and Ron. "Ah, there you are." Morrible motioned for them to sit down, her large smile plastered to her face. "Sit down, dears, sit down. Taniko has brought us some very helpful news."

They took their seats, Markku glaring mistrustfully at Taniko from across the table. "Get on with it," he ordered.

"Vell, as I vas telling your Madame Morrible," Taniko began in a soft voice, rolling his 'r's. "I vas valking along vhen I heard ze Munchkin telling de ozerz about deese travelerz 'e 'as seen."

"Was it Thropp? Did one have green skin?" Ron demanded, leaning in to be intimidating. Taniko sent him a withering glare for interrupting him.

"I am afraid I do not know zis… _Tropp_," he said impatiently. "May I continue, Madame?"

"Yes, of course, Taniko," Madame encouraged, giving Ron a funny face when the foreigner couldn't see. It was a tad scary, being that she was incredibly wrinkled and heavily made up. "I assure you, we are most interested in your findings."

"As I vas saying," he continued, "I vas naturally curious, so I vent closer to listen. 'E vas talking about deese people 'e has met on ze road, zat zey vere wearing zease 'baff robes'. Veirdos, 'e called zem, aldough he did say zat only one man talked to 'im. 'E said he looked like Fiyero Tiggular."

"I'll bet he did," smirked Morrible. "This has been very useful to us, my good man. Do you believe you are quite finished?"

"Dat iz all, Madame," Taniko said, rising to give her a slight bow. "May I take my leave now?"

"One moment." Morrible held up a fat, wrinkled hand. "Did the Munchkin mention where these people were headed?"

"Zey vere going to ze forest, near ze poppy field," Taniko said.

Morrible nodded approvingly. "That will be all, dear. Here are some…tokens of gratitude for your trouble, good man." The old woman dropped several gold coins into the foreigner's waiting, poised hand. "Good day to you, sir."

"And you as vell, Madame." Taniko nodded curtly in the direction of Ron and Markku, not wasting any time in leaving.

"What do you make of this, Weasley?" Markku asked abruptly. "Do Tiggular and the other people have anything to do with our dear green bean?"

"Of course!" bellowed Morrible, clasping her hands together. "Fiyero Tiggular ran off with Miss Elphaba years ago. If he is here, I have every confidence that she is as well." She hesitated. "Erm, and…these people wearing bathrobes would be from your world?"

Ron blushed slightly. "They're not bathrobes. They're wizard's robes," Ron sneered. "So it must be Potter and his band of goody-two-shoes. Thropp must be around here somewhere, then. I say we go now!"

"Hold on just a minute!" Morrible screeched. "My part of the agreement is still in transition. I want to overthrow Glinda before we deal with Elphaba. Elphaba is not important to my plans. Once I have Oz under my rule, boy, I can get you most anyone."

Ron scowled, tapping his hands on the table to express his irritation, until he was struck with an idea. "But Madame," he whined. "What if we use Thropp to draw Glinda out? She would be perfect bait, if we could somehow inform Glinda that we have Thropp. Don't you have a spy situated in Glinda's staff? You could threaten to kill Thropp if Glinda does not comply with our wishes."

"And if she does?" Morrible asked amusedly.

"We'll kill Thropp anyway." Ron grinned. "You earn your part, I get mine. We could kill her before even telling Glinda that we have her. Who cares?"

"Knowing you," Markku interrupted, "you'll get to work on Thropp immediately. I've seen that look in your eyes when you speak about torturing her."

"A little enthusiasm never discouraged the spirit," Morrible drawled.

"True." Ron shrugged. "So, what do we do about Thropp and Glinda?"

"Well, what Weasley says _does_ have merit," Markku reasoned slowly. "If Glinda finds out we have her lover, she'll do whatever we want. Then, we could expose her and all of Oz will know the truth."

Morrible chuckled. "Boys, I have a better idea." She leaned in, her grin menacing. "We capture them both at the same time," she explained. "We can display them both in front of an audience and humiliate them together."

Markku's expression formed into one similar to Morrible's. "I like it," he grunted. "If we have them both, they can't deny one another."

"Yes, but how do we capture them both?" Ron asked.

"That is something you needn't worry about." Morrible waved a hand dramatically, her sinister smile not at all reassuring to the Death Eater. "I have it all planned out, dear boy, all planned out. But what do you suppose we do about the others from your world?"

"Tiggular, Potter, and them?" Ron clarified. "You can do whatever you like with them; they're of no importance," he shrugged. Out of excitement for Thropp's capture, he didn't mention that Thropp and the others would be equipped with wands.

"With pleasure," Morrible said. She turned to Markku, who was patiently waiting for her word when Ron left. "Markku, if you could send Giro in, thank you."

A young man walked into the room on Markku's command. "Yes, Madame?" Giro asked, somewhat nervously.

"I want you to gather fifteen of your men, Giro," Morrible instructed, sitting up straight to translate her business. "Go to the forest out besides the poppy fields and capture Elphaba Thropp. Use whatever means necessary, whether it be knocking her out, tying her up…just make sure she is alive, coherent, and _here_. You are to leave in an hour to do this. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Madame." The man bowed his head. "And if we meet any resistance?"

"Kill them," Morrible instructed articulately. "I have no need of them. Kill them all."

* * *

Elphaba was on guard shift when the sun began to set that evening. She roused the others from their slumber, who seemed more tired then they were before they slept. As they began walking again, Elphaba stifled a yawn. She wished for her broomstick to aid them in their journey, although it would be cause of an entirely new batch of troubles.

They did not converse for the next few hours in a meager attempt to conserve energy. Harry, Hermione, and Snape had long ago ceased in continually asking Elphaba why she insisted on being draped beneath Harry's invisibility cloak on the road. Cornfields, flecked yellow and bright green with prospect, began to turn pine and dark with trees.

Elphaba halted to check where they were. She plucked the cloak off to confront her friends. "Where we need to go, Kiamo Ko, looks to be up there, through the forest." She pointed westward. "We'll be delayed if we don't hurry; it's going to rain."

"Afraid of melting?" Fiyero teased, despite the graying clouds.

Elphaba stared at him disbelievingly, lack of sleep deterring her reaction time, before she shot him a dirty look. "Not funny," she snapped, fairly irritable. "The last thing we need is failure, and we will receive it if we do not _hurry up_."

After folding the cloak over her arm, the green witch took a confident step into the disheartening forest, leaving Fiyero to just barely catch up. This left Harry, Hermione and Snape to follow. They exchanged quizzical looks.

"There's something they're not telling us, and it has everything to do with this mission," Snape announced, watching Elphaba and Fiyero bicker through narrowed eyes.

"It's good we have you here, or I'd never have noticed," Harry grumbled sarcastically.

"Watch it, Potter," growled the once-Potions Master, stepping towards his target. "You may not be a student anymore, but that doesn't mean you've been freed from me. You're treading a thin line."

"But what do you suppose they've got to hide?" interrupted Hermione anxiously. She kneaded her hands, which twitched to grab her wand for comfort. "It's not as though they're outlaws or anything – it'll probably be anticlimactic. Oh, it couldn't be so bad that they can't tell us!"

"We don't know that," Harry said, ignoring his verbal fight with Snape. "Fae's always been edgy when talking about her life here. Remember who we're talking about for a moment; maybe Oz holds bad memories for her."

"You don't leave an entire world to escape bad memories, Potter. You do it to escape people," Snape said. The greasy haired man always managed to translate understanding through few words, and whether he was a suitable traveling companion or not, he was still right.

"Yet…maybe you're both right," Hermione said, tapping her head as though her hands needed something to do. "Snape, you remember when you asked Fae about returning to Oz to visit her family?" Snape nodded, vaguely curious of this new direction that the conversation was headed towards. "She never answered you properly, so perhaps something happened to them she wishes to forget."

"Or them entirely." Snape's mouth twisted into a smirk. "Then, why won't she talk about it? We've all lost people in the war, and especially in the Final Battle. She knows how to cope with losing friends. Here, she acts quite differently."

"We don't know the circumstances," argued Harry, peering after the Ozians to make sure they hadn't strayed too far. "Let's look at it this way: Fae's been dear to us for…what? Six years? We've yet to find a reason to mistrust her, and so maybe she'll explain in time. My guess is that she's acting this way because of Glinda."

"She takes refuge using your invisibility cloak whenever the leaves rustle in the wind! Now what the hell do you make of that?" Snape countered through gritted teeth.

"I'm not saying she doesn't have secrets!" Harry cried, letting his arms sail out to dramatize his point. "We all have secrets! For now, I think we should trust her to tell us when she's ready, and just bare the brunt of whatever weird plans they concoct next."

Snape's form was still rigid, not prepared to accept Harry's suggestion. He was hardly swayed by the breeze that ruffled their robes. "Granger, it's up to you. You're the insufferable know-it-all; you figure it out."

"I would," she said calmly, choosing to overlook the jab at her personality. "And I've tried. Any books on the history of Oz do not reside in England. We'd have to find a town, big enough for a library, or some kind of archive-"

"It's much simpler than that!" Snape hissed. "Don't just skim the surface of your brain. Think about it! You're dating Fae's sole confident, who shares knowledge of their departure from Oz. Ask him. I'm sure you may persuade him to tell you anything."

"No way," Hermione barked, looking offended. "I'd never use Fiyero that way, not to mention betray Fae's trust. Besides, now that we're here – which Fae is angry at already – they should be surrounded by the reasons they left. They can't hide from it forever."

"You mean to tell me you aren't curious about what they're hiding and why they're hiding it from us?" Snape asked, looking down the dirt trail and sneering at its rural appeal.

"Of course I am," Hermione snapped. She crossed her arms moodily about her chest. "But I refuse to trick Fiyero into betraying Fae, of all things. It seems a little conniving, don't you think? Something you would try to do."

Snape was about to retort with great outrage when the subject of their discussion walked a little closer to them, stomping as she came. "Hurry up!" Elphaba called impatiently, waving them over. "At this rate, we'll be lucky to arrive at Kiamo Ko by next year."

Snape scowled at the green witch's back as she turned to speak with Fiyero, saving for later the argument he was about to create with Hermione. "I'll figure it out whether you're willing to help or not," he said. "People can't hide anything for long, and I'd say six years has been long enough."

* * *

Fiyero gave Elphaba sideward glance as he spoke. "They're talking about us, you know."

Elphaba shrugged. "Let them. It'll be entertaining enough for them until we get to the castle. Merlin knows we've got enough to deal with on top of being gossiped about. What do you suggest we do when we get there?"

Fiyero flapped his arms, as if to shrug with his limbs rather than just his shoulders. "I though you'd have that planned out by now," he whined.

"I have just about, if not less, the same authority you do right now," Elphaba said, "meaning none at all. Our sense of direction has suffered, and I'm afraid we have too little information to base a strategy on. No one would willingly ally with the Wicked Witch of the West."

"The operating word is 'willingly'." Fiyero's grim face gave way to a silly smile. "You heard the Munchkin- you cursed people permanently so they would wreak havoc in your absence."

Elphaba sighed. "Then, we'll have to build on what we have so far, and just add to it when we can. I'll contact Glinda once we get settled. If I have a roof over my head, she'll be more at ease. She won't be inclined to kill me- at least, not until later."

"Oh good. She'll just disable you then," Fiyero smirked, halfway serious. "You realize she'll march right over the moment you tell her where we are."

"It would be foolish to tell her where we are, except that we're in Oz and at her disposal," Elphaba said, whacking aside some shrubbery in hopes of getting a better view to the castle. "We've brought some of the best Order members from the battle, and consequently, we're safer that way. We'll figure something out."

Fiyero decided not to tease Elphaba about finally succumbing to the others coming along. "We still don't know what or who we're dealing with," the prince reminded. "Weasley we can anticipate, but Morrible will be harder to face. Other than Markku, we've no idea who their allies are and who started the riots. If their influence has spread, it could be too late. I could go and hypothesize the city's general population's view of the breakouts, and to see if Weasley's made a mark."

"You'd better take Snape with you," Elphaba instructed warningly, trudging along with the others beyond hearing distance behind. "Going into the city by yourself is dangerous; you're a face they'll recognize, especially with Weasley running around. Snape's been involved in espionage most of his life, so you'll both be better together."

"The only way people will recognize me is if I stood beside Glinda and waved," muttered the Winkie, hardly excited about spending time with Snape. "How far is the bloody place, anyway?"

"Kiamo Ko is your castle, not mine," Elphaba accused coolly. "By the look of things, we should rest until morning before starting again. It's a dense forest."

The group fell into a silence, save for the squawking of wildlife as they hiked through the woodland. Suddenly, Elphaba felt something cold fall on her face and sink down the slope of her nose. Little by little, more of the wet substance lightly showered her face and hands, cooling and soothing them from their vigorous trekking.

"We'll get sick if we stay out too long," Elphaba said, suddenly stopping so that the others could catch up. "It's freezing rain, and our limbs will cramp up."

"They're cramped up already," Hermione mumbled under her breath when the green witch was out of earshot, following her deeper into the forest. The raindrops were falling frequently now, and their chill was appreciated for only so long.

Elphaba searched through the area, but couldn't detect direction clearly. The sky was darkening, with the leafy overhead shrouding view of their direction. The trees were collecting rain and dripping them unceremoniously onto the group.

"Transform," Harry blurted suddenly. "Our coats and Hermione's feathers will repel the water and warm us better than our clothes." Shivering, the others obeyed. Elphaba gave Fiyero a sympathetic expression before her verdant face became that of an unforgiving, snarling snout. She picked Snape up by the scruff of his neck, and the fox seemed to sneer at the gesture. Fiyero slid onto Harry's back before the animals began dashing through the trees.

They darted over land elevation and mossy ground until Snape let out a loud, ear ringing squeak for them to stop. They skidded into a clearing where the rain seemed to descend from the sky in spaced patterns. After shaking themselves, they transformed back. Fiyero had to content himself with dusting collected rain off his clothing.

"Thanks," Elphaba said to Snape, attempting to wring rain from her dark hair.

"It goes into a cave," Harry pointed, hiding his head by bunching up his robes over his hair. "We could stay there for the night…build a fire…and hope there's a bear wishing for dinner guests…"

Snape walked up to the cave and threw a rock in that he picked up from the soaked soil. Nothing stirred from within. They couldn't see far into it, so he took out his wand, held it out in front of him, and walked in stiffly. "It's worth a try," he said. The others followed likewise, with Fiyero staying at the back of the procession, holding a wet board of decaying wood for protection.

The cave appeared deserted. Snape dropped his wand, and his superior skills for this field assured the others to do the same. The hairs on the back of Elphaba's neck suddenly shot up, causing her to shiver from something other than the cold. She felt as though she was being watched. She narrowed her eyes and delved further into the rock shelter.

"Elphaba," Fiyero stepped after her, sensing her agitation. His face was cloaked from the distant wand light. "What is it?"

"Looks like nothing," the green witch muttered, pulling a sheet of hair back from blocking her sight. There was no need to spread her paranoia to the group. "For a moment, it was-"

A voice in the darkness interrupted her outwards thoughts, causing Harry and Hermione to practically fall on one another. "Miss Elphaba?"

**Coming up: Trouble brews. **

**Okay…two post-chapter notes. **

**1: I've started a multi-fandom role play…it's called Stranded!, where characters from different fandoms are all stuck on an island. The link is in my profile, so…please join! **

**2: Nominations for the Wicked Fanfiction Awards are up! Go vote (in my profile as well)! **

**-Wolfie**


	10. War is Science

**The title from chapter nine was from….Children of Eden. Congrats to TryDefyingGravity, Kalacyn, Anne Flint, Raiko Toho, Dark-Angel-874, Elizabeth Odessky, Courtney Dax, melissa Ivory, GelNimbus, Yank2324, and StevenQ.**

**I promise that Elera is not supposed to be based off me. (You'll see what I mean later…) I didn't realize the connection until I re-read the chapter today, to be honest. Lurline, I wish I hadn't chosen a Wolf. **

**Chapter 10: War is Science**

Elphaba cringed at the mentioning of her name in the honorary, a sure sign that this entity was going to create problems. It called her name again, and Fiyero fell into step beside the green woman. There was a glimpse of the entity's eyes catching the light of her wand. They glinted with inhuman amber as the group approached.

"Do you not recognise me?" it asked, and Elphaba saw now that it was staring directly into her own eyes, locking gaze to discern that it was, indeed, far from human.

"Friend or foe?" Snape demanded suddenly as he stepped to Elphaba's other side, now fully protecting her as a collective force with Fiyero. The two despised each other, but it was simple to see their common causes still made them a team.

The creature was still looking at Elphaba. "O-old friend," it said, either answering Snape or pleading with the green witch- it was hard to tell.

"It's all right. Come out if you're unarmed," Elphaba reassured warily, due to the likely possibility of the exchange being a trap. The creature stepped out into the wand light to reveal that it was not a subterfuge, but certainly an It.

"Elera." The name spilled from Elphaba's lips almost unconsciously, for she recognised the Wolf that stood on all fours. Harry, Hermione, and Snape shrunk away from the Wolf, the last of the three pointing his wand fiercely at what he still perceived as a threat.

"You aren't dead," the Wolf named Elera commented rather bluntly, seeming to keep her distance for her own protection.

"No, it was a ploy," Elphaba said in a monotone, reaching out a hand, which was still wet from the rain, speckled with coldness and freezing in the open air. "Don't be afraid; I'm the same as I always was."

"Snape, put that away. It's all right," hissed Fiyero, and the Wolf's head snapped to attention, ready to recoil into the darkness of the heart of the cave.

Elphaba held out her hand stubbornly, nodding towards the shivering limb, wishing they'd started a fire immediately. Elera inched forwards to gently sniff Elphaba's hand, her snout hairs away from touching. She seemed satisfied and bore a feral grin with her animal fangs protruding her black lips.

"You've been gone for a long time, Miss Elphaba," she said, bowing slightly, the arc of her back straining with force.

"I know. It will be explained, if only you are patient." Elphaba paused. "Eh, why are you here, exactly?"

"The rain," Elera explained, her thick grey coat of various shades of black and white dry. "We've been making good since you left, though. Took a page out of your book and started traveling to help and give refuge to Animals."

The green witch seemed to be the only one of the group to understand what Elera meant by 'we'. She nodded, listening intently, a slight smile creeping on her face. Elphaba felt slightly in awe to find a friend among her mission, wondering if the Wolf and others would be willing to participate if need be.

"Has Lady Glinda's reign made it difficult?" asked the green witch, cradling her aired out hand near her torso, hoping to heat it.

"She's made it considerably easier," admitted the Wolf, "being that there are no longer any spies looking to eliminate us. It's just Ozians we're up against."

Elphaba smiled wider, though she was knowledgeable of the Wizard's bans against Animals Glinda loosened. She felt pride swell within her, and the urge to brag about her influence on Glinda, but stopped herself, realizing everyone was watching the exchange, possibly not even blinking.

"It's wonderful," she mumbled, thinking of how to avoid being exposed in front of her friends. Fiyero didn't even know of her allegiance with rebel Animals, although he mentioned it was rumoured since before they left Emerald City together, "that change manifests so soon. Elera," Elphaba twitched, "would it be too much to ask that this be continued in privacy?"

Elera, for the first time, glanced around their company without fear. Her Canine eyes were intimidating at her height, standing tall with giant talons inescapably jutting from her paws. "Of course," she said slowly.

"Oh, these are my friends," Elphaba rushed, sweeping her hand to indicate the others and nodding towards the front of the cave. "I'll be a minute," she told the rest of them and heading to the front of the cave with Elera thumping behind her.

The rain wasn't about to let up, hazing cool air in their direction. Harry suddenly found his wits and lit a fire. It blazed instantly; a giant, rolling cloud of smoke blew from atop the flames.

Elphaba glanced back at them, noticing the Wolf watching her suspiciously. She could tell the green witch wished for secrecy, and took care not to mention their relationship, loyal towards her green friend.

"The rain won't stop until morning, I think," Elphaba commented, picking up the board of wood Fiyero brought in a feeble attempt at fortification and holding it lightly over her head to shield herself from the rain. Elera's feral eyes widened and she whined in surprise at Elphaba's confidence in the rain. To the Wolf's surprise, the Witch was not jumping and cursing burns as stray drops fell onto her skin.

"The trees are frosting," she said inattentively, loud enough for the rest to hear from inside the cave and think they were to discuss something of a different nature from the truth. "And you aren't melting," she added quietly. Elphaba sighed excessively as she realized her mistake.

"I assure you, speculation is all fabled." The green witch gave a reassuring smile.

"So then, how is it you survived? We all were anxious," Elera said dryly, shaking her great coat to rid herself of the cold. "And mourning."

"I may or may not have created such fable. To entertain children at bedtime, you know," shrugged Elphaba, lolling about in the rain, unable to decide whether she enjoyed the chill.

"Where have you been for the last six years, Bedtime Story?" Elera asked curiously. Her reaction settled the green witch; it was one of trust and acceptance, which had been mandatory for Elphaba to survive all those years ago. "For all I know, you haven't even been in Oz."

"That much is true," Elphaba sighed, ruffled slightly by the malicious turn in the Wolf's voice. "Elera, let's just dispose of the formalities, could we? Fiyero and I did what was necessary to survive. We were lucky enough to find a group of people who recognised us as friends, accepted me." Her eyes darted towards the cave, where a fire was now steadily blazing.

"So those robed people… they're – er- your friends?" The Wolf sniffed the air in the direction of the three Englishmen (and woman).

"They are," Elphaba nodded fondly.

"If you don't mind me asking, Miss – er," Elera looked uncomfortable as she tread over her words, teeth gnashing delicately as allowed. "Elphaba. The witch hunt hysteria never quite died out. Your name echoes through Oz's history now; it rattles the citizens like the tail of a Rattlesnake. Why come back now, when the break-ins are hypothetically blamed on you?"

"All the more reason for me to return," explained the green witch, stepping forward with vigour. "I need to be here if Glinda needs assistance with keeping the public at bay. The break-in at Southstairs will be cause of great turmoil to her. You see my friends in there?" Elera nodded as a signal for Elphaba to continue. "They've possession of magic, as I am, but of a separate tradition. They can help us if things become hairy."

Suddenly, the green witch's expression turned thoughtful, and she struck a pose, studying Elera carefully. The Wolf gazed back, unafraid, and Elphaba supposed it couldn't hurt to ask. "Has Glinda mentioned anything about who broke out of Southstairs?"

The Wolf shivered in an unsettling manner, in her way of shrugging. "We Animals tend to worry more for our own safety, generally, than the affairs of humans," she said. "I said before that Lady Glinda's been helpful – it's considered a hate crime to discriminate against us. However, it's easily forgotten behind closed doors."

"Change takes decades," Elphaba nodded grimly. "So, you've no idea?" she practically whined, unable to conceal the disappointment in her tone.

"There's an Animal community not far from this location," Elera changed subjects, obviously tired of speaking about her lack of awareness. "I was headed there before the storm hit. If you like, we may travel together. Busybody as he is, Iggy might've brought news of your very question."

"An Animal community so close to human civilization?" Elphaba mused, surprised to hear of the sudden bravery. It wasn't that Animals deserved to be segregated, of course. It was just that the idea was dangerous when she chose to live against the Wizard.

"With the Ban Reversals, Animals everywhere have built up courage," Elera admitted proudly, her chest heaving outwards. "Stray members have been venturing out lately- to test the waters, you know. Iggy was one of the first. I told him it was dangerous, but does he ever listen? To no one but himself, that foolish thing."

"But you're certain he will know more?" Elphaba kneaded her hands anxiously, forgetting the wood, and heaving it into the mucky clearing, their view of the sky muffled by rain clouds.

"If anyone knows, its Iggy," Elera recited casually. "He's been the best scavenger since the Wizard, never stopped. Well, he's bound to know something," she snapped, Elphaba face sour at the extent of trust in the Wolf's voice. "Besides, it'll be a place to stay. You've become quite the legend."

"It's quite charming," Elphaba muttered, meaning exactly the opposite. "There are a load of textbooks out there full of slander. I'm sure there are some reputable references on me in history texts by now."

"It's another step in the plight," Elera said absently, her nose twitching as she eyed the cave mouth. "They're trying to eavesdrop, you know."

"It's not beyond them," mused the green witch, turning to get the Wolf's attention and speaking to her earnestly. "Elera, I would appreciate it if you kept our work together, and this conversation, in confidence against my friends. They… they don't exactly know, nor could they withstand it, for now."

Elera nodded in understanding, shaking off one last time before shuffling nearer to the cave mouth. Her yellowy eyes bore into Elphaba's dark ones for an instant, as though seeping her animalistic features into the green witch and hoping she would adopt them. "I do not mind keeping your secrets safe," she said. "But if they remain here long, they will find out from sources other than yourself."

"I know," Elphaba replied solemnly, walking back into the cave with the Wolf on shaky legs, for her bones themselves were cold and her flesh felt numb from the rain. "Hopefully, it won't come to that."

* * *

Hermione managed a few feeble syllables before finding her voice, watching as Elphaba and the Wolf stepped out into the dreary night. "Was that wolf… Fiyero, did it just… speak?"

"Always the astute observer, Granger. Now I think is the suitable time for you to reply to your own query, as usual," sneered the Potions Master, whipping around to glare at Fiyero. "Tiggular, you're the only who is one capable of explanation."

Fiyero sighed, choosing to take a seat next to the fire, accidentally inhaling black tendrils of smoke. "There are three types of creature in Oz," he began, recalling the way his father once explained it, omitting the sections where his convictions clashed against his father's. "Humans, animal, and the species caught in between, called Animals. They possess souls, and human intelligence, the ability to speak, to stand on two feet if they wish, even. They're like…compare them to the way traditional purebloods regard muggleborns. It's been bloody for them these past few years, except now that Glinda's in power, she's been undoing bans set against them by the Wiz- her predecessor."

"That's remarkable," breathed Hermione, and the Winkie could tell she was resisting the urge to march up to Elera, likely to coo or stare at her for extended periods of time. "But…_why _are they discriminated?" she scoffed. "She's such a beautiful Animal…it's wrong. Just because they can speak…it's like enslaving house elves, or… fearing werewolves in the daylight."

Fiyero watched the bushy haired witch's declaration, musing on how alike she was to Elphaba in that sense. He shrugged. "It's exactly like that. People feel superior, because Animals look like animals…they fear, cast prejudice…it's never been questioned before. That's precisely why Elphaba-" Fiyero halted his speech, realizing he'd explained past his limit.

"She has a close connection with Elera." Harry finally spoke up. "What does she have to do with Fae? They interacted better than Fae does with most _people."_

"Elphaba has this kind of…." Fiyero tried to sum up his words, stuttering in response. "She's got, uh… a close relationship with Animals. A… kinship, if you will. When we were younger, she used to help them; now I don't know Elera, but Elphaba must have helped her in the past."

Still jittery, Fiyero shuffled closer to the conjured fire. "Elphaba's better to talk to about this," he said indifferently. "She's passionate about Animal right, ever since I met her. Passionate like Hermione is about house-elf enslavement, maybe more."

"More?" spat the bushy haired witch, slightly offended. Perhaps it was the comparison to Fiyero's ex-girlfriend, or the strong disbelief someone that could outweigh her. "What could she have done to earn 'more'?"

_Became a fugitive, suffered hate and prejudice by her own people, sacrificed love and a normal lifestyle, narrowly escaped various attempts on her life…_ Fiyero answered silently, suddenly wishing he could declare it aloud. Instead, he motioned for Hermione to sit beside him by the fire. "You should probably ask her personally. It's a long story." The prince paused. "What do we have for dinner?"

Snape glared at him. "Air," he replied icily. "Unless you and Fae happened to plan anything out ahead of time."

"Elphaba decided that food wasn't an issue," Fiyero muttered, feeling his stomach grumble. "At least, to her. You know how she is. And this night – the storm – it was unexpected, hindering any possible food collection, unless it came knocking on our cave."

"I could scavenge for little things if I transform," suggested Hermione.

"The winds are too strong." Fiyero shook his head. "If this fire were not magical, it would have been snuffed out already."

"We've got to figure out something," Snape said, insisting on standing until Elphaba returned. "Without food, we'll be too weak to fight. I gather there is something out there good enough," he muttered, then spoke up in an instructing professor's voice. "Potter, you're coming with me. We'll transform, dig up roots…"

"It's no use, Snape. We don't even know our way around the forest," Harry argued, seeming to fall asleep once the talking Wolf was explained. The Potions Master scowled, lines miserably etched into his pale face. He grabbed the semi-incoherent Harry by the collar and drug him past Elphaba and Elera into the freezing rain.

"If they don't get lost, I suppose they may actually find something," Hermione said hopefully. "Grass, maybe."

"We wait, now," sighed Fiyero, leaning his back against the cool, jagged rock wall, noticing Elphaba and Elera at the cave mouth, two silhouetted figures gesturing madly.

He tried to listen, but their voices were hushed, and Hermione soon leaned her head on his chest, dozing off. They were drying off in the fire's heat, the effect of which made their movements comfortably sluggish. The Winkie prince ran his hands down his girlfriend's mane of brown hair, waiting to be joined by the still conscious company.

Seeing an Animal reminded him of their plight, and of Elphaba's struggle all those years ago. It lead to their leaving Oz, the situation dire enough to scare them away to a completely other world. It worried him as Hermione slept so soundly, that he would regret allowing her visit Oz. _Don't worry,_ Fiyero thought, hugging the bushy haired witch closer,

* * *

It had been a full forty hours since failing to contact Elphaba. Forty hours and fifteen minutes. Or twenty-eight minutes. Glinda never had had an aptitude for mathematics, nor any real interest. Every attempt she made to contact the green witch had failed; she simply was not picking up. Glinda couldn't help but sag in her seat, dejection eating away at her esteem.

It couldn't be that Elphaba was still angry with her, given that her reasoning was fragmented and petty, which the green witch would never hold a grudge against for long. Wondering if she did the right thing in ordering Elphaba to stay in England was paltry and just as unnecessary as blowing up at the green witch last they spoke. Glinda knew that the decision was based on logic. The blood of the Wicked Witch of the West would satisfy the Ozians in their panic from the break-ins, and she plainly could not let that come to pass.

Neither could she continue to sit in her room and brood, running herself in circles. Morrible was still amok somewhere in the city, and whatever her objection for escaping would wound Glinda personally. Perhaps, after a good night's rest and genuine optimism, the blonde would be able to work something out in way to stop the old Shiz Headmistress. _Yes, and, Pigs will fly as well_, she thought sarcastically, chuckling bitterly at the thought that Elphaba's wry humour had rubbed off on her.

A knock sounded at her doors, and they vibrated at the connection, painted white and carved extravagantly. _Also cheap, too, apparently_. Plastering a gracious smile to her slight features was a professional practice for Glinda, and she called out, "Who is it?"

"Lady Glinda, it is Odell," the knocking person announced. Glinda recognised the name of one of her butlers, allowing some of her smile to be authentic, entertained by his formality. She wrapped her arms around her bodice in a useless attempt at modesty and went to open the door.

"Forgive me if this isn't my place," Odell began eagerly as the door swung open. The doorknob whacked the wall in the hallway, causing him to jolt unceremoniously. "But I was in the city today, and went to get a drink from a p-pub. There were people there, discussing the location of Markku's hideout, b-boasting," he stuttered, but his tone was that of disgust, "about the Southstairs escape. I recognised the name, and the person who engineered the break-in as well, since it was m-mentioned. Markku, right? I though you should know directly."

As he spoke, Glinda's eyebrows rose on her forehead. She mentally weighed the possibilities of his insincerity, but he was never known to be a liar. "I appreciate your telling me, Odell. Thank you," said Glinda solemnly, reaching out and briefly touching his hand in consideration, not noticing the nervous flinch the butler made. "Do you recall where these people said the hideout was?"

It seemed strange that Markku's men would be hollering about their missions in public, but arrogant criminals tended to swank about their accomplishments.

"Near the forest, just outside the city," Odell replied with confidence. He paused, and then leaned in as though others were listening. "I-I don't know if bringing the Gale Force would be such a good idea." Glinda looked at him pointedly to elaborate. "I mean, the unnecessary attention in one concentrated place? The people mentioned a c-celebration tonight; they'll let down their guard."

What Odell said housed some merit, so Glinda nodded sweetly as he spoke. "Once again, thank you, Odell," she thanked graciously. "I shall set out immediately."

She considered going out alone, but didn't know if it would be the safest plan of action. From the image the butler drew, it would likely be the most tactful method. She allowed Odell to nod respectfully before closing the door, hearing him move away, but the thick walls drowned out his footsteps down the hall.

The butler smiled as he left, reasoning that he should prepare as soon as he arrived back into his rooms.

Morrible would be proud.

* * *

The bubble was transparent, and the only way one could spot it would be to strain their eyes against the moonlight and recognise a glint. Glinda silently floated, following the directions Odell indicated to discover he was being honest. The small, run down cottage was probably a ruse to the cleaner living conditions on the inside. It was dark, and one could not see through the windows, so for all the blonde knew, it was deserted. She hovered, perking her ears for any human sound, but met disappointingly with the chirping of crickets as they harmonized a midnight tune.

Glinda was beginning to second-guess herself, and the plan she threw together recklessly. Reason escaped her as to why she decided to come tonight, as daylight would have been a better option. If she had even told several officers to dress as civilians and stay hidden, she would have found a comfort in that. She wondered if there was still chance to turn back and bring force with her tomorrow.

There was a rustling of leaves behind her when the night was without a breeze. It startled her, and she took a step on the ground to stare into darkness. Glinda knew there were bushes in that direction, but the poor moonlight made it look more like a void, and she felt dizzier the longer it stared back at her.

"Calm down," she instructed herself, still looking in the direction of the bushes. "There isn't anyone there; it was an animal. Or Animal. You're being silly. All you have to do is-" There came another rustle, and she raised her voice, hearing it waver slightly. "All you have to do is conjure up your bubble and go back to the Emerald City."

It took her a few moments to realize that darkness, literally, was staring back at her. She watched, disturbed, as whatever, or whoever it was, made no move to charge her. Glinda moved her feet backwards, moving away to conjure her bubble, feeling her breath shallow to the point of stillness. She couldn't pull her eyes away from the bushes, in fear that the person might dash away and attack.

She crashed into someone.

"I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but it won't be that simple, Blondie," said the body behind her. Before Glinda could open her mouth to shriek, he spoke again. "_Stupefy!_"

**Coming up: The Animal community**

**Anyone know what type of Animal Iggy is and where the name comes from? (Hint: If you know where Iggy comes from, you'll know the Animal. I think.)**

**-Wolfie**


	11. A Way Back to Then

**The title from chapter nine was from….Pippin. Congrats to Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Elizabeth Odessky, melissa Ivory, Anne Flint, TryDefyingGravity, Yank2324, and mimi chan.**

**My laptop is being reimaged this weekend, so I might not be able to reply to reviews until Monday. We'll see, though…I might be able to use my dad's laptop.**

**Chapter 11: A Way Back to Then**

The solid rock wall was the only thing greeting Elphaba as she woke. She insisted on keeping her eyes shut as she slipped into coherence. The green witch wished to stay asleep; her body still limp from walking non-stop. She sat up abruptly with her eyes closed, only to whack the side of her head against a low overhang of the cave. Elphaba recoiled in pain and swore bitterly at the hunk of rock.

Harry yawned, tousling his hair with a carefree hand to eliminate the flatness it took on during the night. "You know, Fae," he said, peering at her with tired eyes, "some people enjoy waking up to the soft chirping of birds, or a coffee maker, or even an atomic bomb. Just not your swearing. What's happened now?"

Elphaba scowled at the Boy-Who-Lived while rubbing the side of her head as though trying to protect any precious knowledge from leaking out. "Unless you have something useful to say, _don't _say it," she growled, crawling away from the overhang and standing up. She swayed, reaching out for the rock wall to steady herself.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" muttered Harry, feeling chastised by Elphaba's sharpness so early in the morning. She was approaching the cave mouth and observing the day with a neutral expression.

"Nothing," Elphaba replied briskly. She stretched, extending her slender arms to the heavens and then drew her wand to check the time, realizing the sun had barely just reared its warmth. "The rain's stopped, and it's not too cold," she said suddenly. "I'm going out to see if I can retrieve any suitable breakfast food."

By the time she was finished waking up, blinking furiously and stifling yawns, a black panther had strutted away from the cave, its sleek coat glinting in the sunlight. The scent of the woods contrasting in the aftermath of the freezing rain was pungent in Elphaba's keen nostrils, the musk of moist wood and soggy moss overpowering. Her ears twitched as she set out from the clearing, ready to pick up a trail. As Elphaba neared a clearing, she noticed Elera and gave a small growl in greeting, forgetting that the Wolf had never before seen her in this form.

The animal was twice her size, and Elera wasn't an idiot. The Wolf reasoned that a fight would never be triumphed by her between them, and she abandoned her meal of deer carcass, backing up slowly. She bore her teeth, snarling in protest, and hopefully, intimidation. Elera nearly jumped out of her skin when, in the blink of an eye, the panther transformed into someone completely different.

"Hold!" Elphaba called, her voice raspy. She crouched slightly, coming forward, pointedly avoiding the cadaver. "It's just me."

The Wolf was miffed, and when she sniffed the air, the two scents of Elphaba and the panther were one. "Elphaba, how did you-" she hesitated, astounded. "You learnt that in the new world, huh?" Elphaba nodded, appreciative of the understanding. Elera shot a longing look at the carcass, now buzzing with flies and tepid from one possessing life. "Would you care to join me, then?"

"No," replied the green witch softly. "You know I don't eat meat. Although the others," she sighed, "might appreciate it. Do you think you could- it'll save me the trouble of wandering out to find food."

Elera was busying herself with tearing off strips of meat, but stopped to inspect a generous area of the dead animal, which remained untouched. "I will bring them the rest," she promised, nodding her head towards the generous section of remains. "But what will you eat?"

"There is probably something leftover from last night," shrugged Elphaba. The squawking of crows sounded in the distance, and she looked around nervously. "We should head back."

"And I assume today is the one for going to the Animal community?" Elera asked before enclosing her jaw around the skull of the unfortunate deer and beginning to drag it along.

"Yes, of course." Elphaba kept a patient pace as the Wolf moved their consignment. "I don't know how long we'll stay, but I can assure you that it will only be a small time. If they can give me information, any at all, I'd be grateful." She paused, tapping her foot on humid soil. "I doubt the others will gather an appetite when they see their breakfast dragging through the dirt. If you wouldn't mind." She drew her wand. "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

Elera's jaw loosened its grip on the deer, and it began to levitate and hover above the ground. It wasn't the most majestic of sights- a floating, bleeding corpse- but the Wolf wasn't protesting.

"Pernickety humans, the lot of you," grumbled the Wolf, relieved to be alleviated from carrying the food back to her hideout.

They arrived to the cave to find the others already up, with a sweltering fire blazing to illuminate the cave. All eyes fell on the slaughtered animal, to which Elphaba gave a sweeping bow, hiding a grimace. "Breakfast is served," she announced.

"This is amazing!"

The Animal community was a quiet little town, quite isolated for all its hype of being near the Emerald City. Either side of the small streets was dotted with peaceful houses. Hermione's eyes lit up as she took it all in, marvelling at the Animals' intelligence.

The water source ran behind the houses in a natural river, ending in a rushing waterfall several feet below. The non-stop sound of the water hitting the surface of the pool below was manageable, as a Duck waddled closely to the sputtering falls, and Bats congregated near the mouth of a cave that served as their home.

Elera's black lips were pulled back to expose her teeth in a grin in the general where direction Elphaba was supposed to be. The green witch had insisted upon wearing the invisibility cloak for 'safety measures'. "We've improved since you left," the Wolf announced proudly. "Our resources are in better supply. It's not quite equality, but it works for now."

A mighty roar erupted from behind the group. Hermione grabbed for Fiyero's arm, startled, and Fiyero grabbed Harry's arm in fear. A snarling Tiger, larger than anything Elphaba could achieve in the form of a panther, concentrated his angered gaze on Elera.

"What were you thinking, Elera?" he growled. "Bringing humans into our home and endangering our progress?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," retorted the Wolf collectively. "Kern, I trust you remember Miss Elphaba?"

The Tiger's teeth were bared, still prepared for a challenge. "Miss Elphaba is _dead_," he snapped. "And you bring it up casually. How dare you-"

"There's no use in getting angry if I'm already here," Elphaba interrupted, pulling off her cloak patiently, paying no mind to the Tiger. He blinked, seeming to cease all breathing before standing on hind legs. He sagged, for his true height was unmanageable.

"Miss Elphaba!" he finally greeted, seeming delighted and suspicious all at once. "I apologise for my outburst. Rumour had it that you were dead."

"Elphaba," addressed the Wolf suddenly, the giant Cat hissing in exasperation. "Why don't you and your friends go rest in my house? It's at the end of the street, red with daisies out front. I'll meet you there." She turned to Kern. "Allow me to explain."

Elphaba nodded in appreciation, heading towards the house without further consent. The others trailed behind her, allowing their eyes to absorb this entirely new experience.

"Let me ask you this question, and answer me candidly," Fiyero began, sliding up to walk beside the green witch. "Does every Animal in Oz know you personally?"

Elphaba shrugged, smiling slightly, for she knew that Fiyero was trying to make her laugh. "How many Animals do you think exist, anyway?" She raised an eyebrow in question, but turned serious. "Stories are passed. Like the Wicked With of the West, but in the opposite effect, being that she helped them, instead of terrorized them."

"You mean that _you_ helped them," corrected the Winkie, aware of the blatant staring that the Animals were doing as they passed. Decipherable words consisted of, "witch", and "back from the dead".

"Miss Elphaba!" The greeting came from a young Antelope, as he gracefully leapt onto the street to meet the green witch. "Welcome back!" he cried. "I've heard so much about you."

"It looks as though you're famous, Fae," Hermione noted, smiling. "Been in any movies?" She bent down to the Antelope, eye level and eager. "And what's your name?" she asked sweetly.

_Yeah, famous_, Elphaba thought darkly. _You have no idea_.

"Micah," replied the Antelope shyly, avoiding eye contact and gently kneading his hoofs into the soil. He was obviously very young, and his interaction with humans could be interpreted either as a change in the times of Animal-human strife, or dangerous naivety. "What about you?"

"I'm Hermione," the bushy haired witch said brightly. "It's good to meet you. Aren't you the cutest little thing?"

The Antelope lowered his head and grumbled, "aw" at her cooing. He ran back to where his mother was waiting, her beady eyes wide with fury at his recklessness. "Micah, come back here!" she called. "Let Miss Elphaba and her friends be free to go about their business."

Elphaba nodded towards the two Antelopes, smiling in consideration, before walking away. They arrived at Elera's house, which was strangely equipped to fit the lifestyle of a Wolf. The kitchen was small, but appeared to be the only place they all could fit.

"I can't believe that all of them would…revere me that," directed the green witch to Fiyero, collapsing into a chair. "It unnerves me."

"Well, what were you expecting?" Fiyero scoffed, leaning back in his chair and pushing off to lean on the two back chair legs. "You're a benefactor to this little community thingy, and a veteran to their cause. There's also the influence you have on Glinda, and that worked out for them quite well."

Elphaba shrugged, seemingly descending into her thoughts, when suddenly, she jumped, causing Fiyero to slip from his chair. He scrambled to his feet in humiliation, pulling the chair upright and noticing how pale Elphaba had become.

"What is it?"

"Glinda." Elphaba whacked her fist on the table, and it seemed to rumble back at her. "I forgot to call her this morning." She plunged a hand into her pocket, frowning before delving into all of her pockets. Her face fell, the fingers making up her fist going limp as she realized that she had forgotten the mirror all way the way in England.

"Elphaba, just calm down," Fiyero said soothingly. "It might be better this way. Glinda might not even have to find out you were ever here, if we just work behind the scenes to deal with Madame Morrible and Weasley."

"She might suspect something," Elphaba said, seeming to take into consideration Fiyero's proposal.

"Nothing like this," grinned the Winkie prince. "Look, our main intention is to help her, and help her we will do. Not worrying over contact. Who knows? When this all blows over, we can call on her in the City."

Elphaba placed her chin on her hand. "You're right," she sighed loudly. "I just want to know she's safe. Unless she tells me so herself, I won't believe it. But now… for now, we'll be okay."

"I'm sorry about Kern," Elera said, stepping into her kitchen. Behind her waddled a young Hawk, shifting his gaze, and then seeming to disappear in the blink of an eye. "He's kind of the unspoken chief of the community, and he takes our protection seriously. Sometimes a little too much. You must understand that most of the human interaction these Animals have had in their lives were negative."

Elphaba nodded thoughtfully. "You needn't apologise for him." She dismissed the subject.

Elera smiled nervously, coming off a little frightening, considering her dentistry. "Anyway, I've brought-" The Wolf paused, looking over her shoulder and sighing. "Now where _can_ that Iggy be?" she muttered, growling as she walked out of the kitchen and towards the front door. "I'll be right back; that little menace can't sit still for two minutes!"

Elera trotted outside while the others looked on in amusement. On all fours, the Wolf shouted to the sky. "Get down here, you little chicken!"

"I happen to be a Bird of Prey, thank you very much," corrected a indolent voice descending from the sky, its owner swooping down to land on Elera's awkward Canine shoulder.

Iggy was a Hawk, leaning towards an unorthodox diminutive size. His body was covered in beautiful tan feathers, splattered with off-white, with his sharp face not doing justice to his personality. "Well," he asked impatiently, clucking his beak. "What d'ya want? I don't have all day to dedicate time to those who call a majestic thing like me a chicken."

"Elphaba has a question for you, Iggy." The Wolf narrowed her eyes at the Hawk when they re-entered the sad excuse for a kitchen. "Something only an idiot like you could answer."

Disregarding Elera's insult, probably from practice, the Hawk perched on the back of Elphaba's chair to lean in and stare at her with tiny black eyes, mimicking a vulture.

"Iggy," Elphaba began with intent, "Southstairs was broken into a few days ago, as I'm sure you know?"

Iggy clicked his beak, leaning back, his claws digging into the chair. "Of course," he bragged. "It's only all over Emerald City, what with Madame Morrible escaping and the murder of all those guards. Poor little Lady Glinda's been trying to keep it hush-hush… failing, though, ain't she?"

"And you would know this," Elera practically barked, "because you've been sneaking to the City again. What have I said before, you flapping nuisance?"

Elphaba raised her hands to rub her temples tiredly. She suppressed a shudder at the knowledge that Morrible escaped. That didn't just mean she was with Ron and the Grimmerie – a horrid equation – but also that Glinda had lied to her. She felt a sinking guilt that drained the energy from her, feeling like she'd put her friends in danger by doing this. She then felt Fiyero give her shoulder a squeeze in reassurance.

"We've done it before, Elphaba. We can do it again," Fiyero whispered in her ear. "And this time, we've got friends."

"Alright," Harry said, leaning against the kitchen's doorframe, arms folded. "What do we need to know about this Morrible woman? Surely she's not as bad as Voldemort was."

Elphaba scoffed. "She has her intent," she said bitterly, kneading her hands. "She's manipulative, and has twisted perceptions of right and wrong. She can also read the Grimmerie. I have no doubt Weasley's working with her now."

"Do you know where they could be, Iggy?" Hermoine asked, turning to the Hawk with kind eyes. Her smile faded when the Hawk ruffled his feathers to shake himself off.

"Beats me," he squawked. "But I could find out, y'know, fly over and get the details." He seemed over the moon for a legit excuse to leave the Animal community again.

"Just don't put yourself at harm. It's not worth it," Hermione instructed, giving Elphaba a sympathetic look. Elphaba brought her face from burying them in her hands, as she had been doing previously, to give the bushy haired witch an 'it's-all-you' expression. "We need any hints on Morrible and her whereabouts. That's all."

"I'm on it," Iggy announced, spreading his wings out, which wasn't very impressive a wingspan for a Hawk.

"Be back soon," Elera demanded, receiving a wink from her fellow Animal.

"I'll try," he said unconvincingly, before lifting off. Elphaba watched absently as he became a meek, black spec in the bright sky.

"Let's hope he's got some good news," the green witch muttered. "We've had enough bad news to last a lifetime."

Bad news, though, was all that Iggy seemed to have. Due to the number of Markku's men around the area, the five humans and their Wolf companion had bee forced to flee their little place of refuge. Elphaba put her foot down to Snape, who wanted to drive the mysterious party away with their wands. She reasoned that they drew enough attention, and carrying weapons that killed Gale Force not several days ago was risky enough. Elphaba had been disappointed to on the road again, for she had enjoyed the little time she had been able to spend among the Animals, but at this point, it was more important to stay alive.

"I don't think we're going to make it very far if we have to carry all this," Hermione complained, stopping to sling the overstuffed sack she was carrying over her shoulder.

"Give yours to Snape," Fiyero suggested, carrying his own bag.

"It's not our arrival we should be concerned with, it's why we can't just get down to it when we get there," the Potions Master growled, letting his bag drag along the ground.

"I told them not to do this," Elera interrupted, gaiting on all fours, occasionally sniffing the trail. "I said you were going on a trip that required the smallest accommodations, but it's sort of a tradition to give gifts to visitors, and especially heroes."

Elphaba sighed, but that was the only way the others could tell where she was. Elera stopped speaking to sniff out the green witch's scent, but the invisibility cloak masked her for the most part. She was trudging alongside Harry and Snape. "It's not as though all this isn't appreciated," the green witch said tiredly, and Harry yelped slightly at the bodiless words, "but we can't keep it all."

"I say we keep the food and dump the rest before the Yellow Brick Road," the Winkie Prince said hopefully. "That way we can eat _real _food."

"I have to second that." Harry sagged under the weight of the bag, moonlight glinting off his spectacles so that his eyes were hidden. "There's no way we could possibly fight if we're exhausted."

"We're _not_ fighting," insisted Elphaba's agitated voice appearing from air.

"There's enough strength between us and our wands to face a whole mob of people," argued the Boy-Who-Lived. "We'd be able to fight against Morrible's forces, so long as they weren't all equipped with wands, which they aren't, are they?"

"And besides, why should we listen to you?" Fiyero asked, his teeth still white against the dim nightlight as he grinned. "You're just a voice."

Elphaba responded by shoving the prince forcefully. The bag fell from his back, causing him to stumble on the dirt road. He pulled himself from the ground, taking special care to make sure his hair wasn't ruined, and shook his fist at the general direction of the group.

"Elera, where is she?" Fiyero asked, swinging his fists.

The Wolf peered at him closely, then scoffed. "If it will prevent you from falling on your face again, she's over near Hermione," she said amusedly.

"We don't have to get rid of everything," Hermione said suddenly. "The Animals put so much effort into giving us all these things. We might as well keep it. We could just levitate the bags."

"I doubt any passers-bys would empathize with flying objects," Snape said venomously.

"So, Fae can just take off the cloak, and we'll drape it over the bags," persisted the bushy haired witch.

"I doubt any passers-by would empathize with _me_," Elphaba grumbled from beneath the cloak, alerting Fiyero to where she was walking. He draped a lazy arm around her shoulders, which she failed to shrug off, and his other arm around Hermione.

"Fiyero, you're weighing me down," carped Hermione, visibly suffering under the burden of the bag over her shoulder, as well as her boyfriend.

"If we know who we're up against, all we have to do if find out where they're taking refuge, and storm the damn place," Snape reasoned.

"And with Glinda's help, we'll have permission to gain access to almost anywhere, if she's running the whole country," Harry joined in, readjusting the bag he was carrying.

"And we can give away all this stuff when we get to the City," Hermione said, huffing. "Fiyero, seriously, get off."

"We're _not_ fighting, get it through your thick heads," Elphaba concluded firmly, shaking Fiyero off of her and stepping away. "We're also not keeping these bags. Even if we levitate them, there'll be no place to put them. And Fiyero," she roared, "get off Hermione; her back is going to break in a minute!"

Fiyero gingerly removed his arm from around his girlfriend and took the bag she was carrying to add to his own. The bushy haired witch gave him an appreciative peck on the cheek and stretched, sighing with relief.

"I can't understand why you insist on staying dormant," Snape argued, his voice saturated with suspicion. "Perhaps, Fae, you wish to explain yourself?"

"No, Severus, I do not," Elphaba replied slowly and carefully.

"Didn't you have a plan before?" Harry asked. His voice wasn't scrutinizing, but it did express his confusion towards Elphaba's decision.

"I did." Elphaba was walking beside the Boy-Who-Lived again, substituting her fear of her friends discovering her true motives with vexation. "But I never prepared for more than two people to go, and so things changed when you three decided to come along."

A silence fell over the group like the silky, suffocating material of the invisibility cloak. Whether Snape, Hermione, and Harry felt guilty or not, Elphaba didn't care. The one thing that consumed her thoughts was Glinda, and how they were no longer able to communicate. If she couldn't see for herself that the blonde was safe, Elphaba would be distracted from coming up with a foolproof plan.

At last, they came to a fork in the road, grass growing unevenly between the separations and spilling over to overlap one side. They stopped, looking to Fiyero to proceed with directions, but Fiyero merely shrugged, and Elphaba watched intently as Elera sniffed the earth.

"The Yellow Brick Road is this way," she growled, standing on all fours. She waited for the others to speak, finding a mussed patch on her grey coat to brush out.

"How do you know?" Hermione asked suddenly, staring down the direction the Wolf announced. The trail turned black and mucky, the darkness of night transforming it into a menacing trajectory of shadow.

The Wolf shrugged. "More feet have walked on it."

"Oh, yuck." The bushy haired witch screwed up her face in disgust. "That's an awful thing to sniff out."

"Do we dump all this stuff now?" Harry wondered aloud, letting his bag slide off his shoulder and land on the ground with a heavy thump.

"We should collect all the food and put it in one bag," Fiyero said, going through his and Hermione's sacks with intent.

There were crickets hiding in the grasses surrounding the path, singing their mechanical songs, and Elphaba wanted to squash them. The invisibility cloak was making her flesh hot, and she wanted to take it off for the time being before following the road, but the crickets were too loud to determine if anyone strange was approaching. She heaved a sigh and thought miserably of her hand mirror, lying patiently on her desk atop lesson plans and textbooks.

"Is something wrong, Elphaba?" Elera asked, surprising the green witch when she looked over to find the Wolf looking directly into her eyes.

"Do you know if anyone's coming down the road?" she asked, almost in a whisper. The Wolf shook her head to indicate that the coast was clear, so Elphaba pulled off the cloak and folded it over her arm, sucking in fresh air with a worried expression.

"What's up, Fae?" Harry asked, catching the apples the green witch threw from her sack one by one.

"I think we should rest once we get to the Yellow Brick Road," Elphaba hummed. "It's active early in the morning, and there's a forest nearby."

"That's still not going to aid our plight in finding this Madame Morrible," sneered the Potions Master, seeming especially pale in the moonlight. "If she's as big a threat as you claim, then we'll have to take immediate action."

"Oh, come off it already," Elphaba snapped, scowling at the cagey look Snape gave her. She offered to carry the single bag leftover from their selective packing, which was hastily shoved into her arms. She wrapped the invisibility cloak around her body once again and set off, pointedly avoiding Snape.

**Coming up: The English people have put up with enough from Elphaba. They want answers. Now. **

**-Wolfie**


	12. The Guilty Ones

**The title from chapter eleven was from….[title of show. Congrats to Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Elizabeth Odessky, Courtney Dax, X-Kate-X, and melissa Ivory.**

**Hey! Guess what? I have a new obsession! That new TV show on ABC...Pushing Daisies. Anyone else here watch it? **

**Heh. And I'm a booftart. I forgot...um...CardboardCreative wrote the first scene for me. Because she's special. And because I run out of inspiration from time to time. Thanks, Cardboard. And..er...sorry about that.**

**Chapter 12: The Guilty Ones**

Glinda was out of place, and Ron figured as much. Her cleanly white attire contrasted horribly with the gloom of her confinements, and if she were able to view herself, the little blonde would probably have a fit. The blindfold stood out against the creamy color of her flesh, giving way to a trembling jaw line. Ron allowed himself a smile of triumph before he began.

Glinda the Good was crying.

"You know," he started calmly, flipping over a chair on his way to her and revelling in how she flinched at the crash, "I never respected authority." He whacked over a gas lamp, which shattered and died out on the floor. The blonde jumped, still trembling. "Years of ignorance to the bigger picture, I should say, taught me much about lack of respect towards you people."

The table beside Glinda landed, following by bouncing of what once were its limbs, and she reacted just as before, gasping slightly. "I learned from the best rebel, but that was shot to hell." The chair on Glinda's other side was kicked aside, and she jerked violently, causing Ron to smile. His composure, he felt, was impeccable.

The Death Eater brought his face close to hers, so that she could feel the breath on her face, even though the blonde couldn't see. He watched with a smirk at her quivering, but there were no tears, seeing as the black blindfold would have absorbed it all.

"He was too cutesy, Harry," elaborated the redhead, his nose touching Glinda's. "Kind of like you."

With that, he whipped off her blindfold, exposing her to the light, which was now worse off because the lamp was smashed. She blinked, but much to Ron's surprise, did not whimper or shrink back. Her eyes were not puffy with tears, but painted in the neat, regal fashion as the day he saw her give the Emerald City her first speech back from England. She was still quavering, but not in the way he expected.

Glinda the Good was fuming.

"You," she shrilled, "are a no good, thick as wood, scheming son of a-"

"Woah, woah, now." Ron overpowered her words and couldn't help but shrink back at her bravery in the position she was presented. The blonde was staring at him like he has just been caught spreading a nasty rumour. "There needn't be name calling. That's just cruel. You might as well tie me up and leave me in the dark, if you're so mean."

He laughed at his own joke, but the blonde was indifferent. Her hands were tied together behind the back of her unstable chair, and her ankles were roped to the limbs. Glinda's legs were so short that her feet barely skimmed the dirtied floor, so if the chair gave way, she would be sent flying with it.

"What are you-" she started to say, but Ron hushed her.

"The girl in the chair is hardly the one asking the questions," Ron said, pointing a finger at her. The redhead thought for a moment, watching Glinda as she squeezed her lips together to prevent shouting a curse at him. Uncalled for, he rushed up to her, eliciting a yelp of surprise. "Where were you on the night of the fifth?" he demanded in a yell, but slid down to the floor, laughing at the blonde's shocked expression.  
"If I weren't tied, I swear to Lurline, I would do to you what I did in the Hospital Wing, but ten times worse," Glinda growled furiously.

Ron frowned once he got up from rolling around on the floor, striking a pose in thought. "Haven't forgot about that, have you?" he mumbled.

"No, and I doubt you have, either." Glinda squirmed against her restraints, feeling the rope cut into her wrists and sweat collecting from her struggle that stung the rope burns. "You squeal when you get beaten up by a girl, Weasley."

Ron was terrified. If Glinda dared to utter anything of their confrontation in the Hospital Wing, then he would be regarded as a coward in the eyes of his allies. He smacked the blonde twice, once for each of her cheeks, leaving behind burning crimson handprints. She let out an unnecessarily loud roar, so he decided to sock her directly on the bruise on her face. Tears sprung to her eyes at the contact.

"Now you listen to me," he snarled, drawing his wand and sticking it in the hollow of Glinda's neck threateningly. "This may be your homeland, Blondie, but that doesn't mean I can't destroy you on sight." He trailed the wand down from her neck, the wood scraping her flesh down to her cleavage, which heaved with frustrated breaths. "So you watch what you say, or you'll find yourself very, very… well, dead."

"What use am I to you, anyway?" Glinda's temper had calmed, but her eyebrows were still furrowed. "I can't read the Grimmerie, and we haven't so much as spoken three words to each other except for…."

The blonde's face went blank with realization, and Ron backed off to laugh at her. She looked possessed, really, with wide eyes, and he couldn't help but point at her as he held his sides, as though other people were in the room and wanted to know what was so funny.

"That's right," he chortled. "You're about a valuable to me as a bag of dung."

"Please don't hurt her," Glinda pleaded, her expression taking a pitiful turn. Any hints of fury that remained melted into heartbreak, but her wrists were still struggling at the rope that bound them.

"Oh come on! Why do you think I went to all these lengths to kidnap you?" Ron took up a chair he kicked down earlier, so that he could sit on it backwards, and he leaned his chest on the back. "Thropp has got to be the most satisfying victim I've ever thrown a Cruciatus at. So, if I'm not doing it for _revenge_," he shouted the word, "I'd do it for fun. And really, don't those lines blur somewhere anyway?"

"Oh my O-oz, just please, don't hurt her." Glinda was watching his eyes, suddenly shaken by the look they adopted when he spoke about harming her girlfriend. It frightened her. "Do anything you want to me, just leave her alone."

"That wouldn't be fun anymore," Ron explained casually. "And besides, there's someone else who's found use of you. I'll get my payback for the little outburst in the Hospital Wing…" His lips twitched and turned up into a smile. "I'll just be watching from a distance."

"S-she won't know that you have me," Glinda said, wincing at the pain in her jaw. "She's all the way in England, always has been. There's no w-way she could figure it out from there."

"So, why are you stuttering?" Ron asked, feigning innocuousness. He waited a few moments, as though the question weren't rhetorical. No sound reverberated through the house, except maybe the silent song of dust creeping along the floorboards. "My plan isn't flawed; rather, your information is corrupt. Thropp's in Oz, Blondie, and when she finds out you're in my hands, well, she'll come running."

"Please don't do it." Glinda looked up at him earnestly. "You used to be good, remember? Just… just try to find it in your heart. Elphaba hasn't done anything to you directly. You were simply on different sides-"

"Ouch." Ron grabbed for his heart. "You had to dig that deep, huh? Whatever I used to be is gone, you got that?" He shifted in his chair, ready to leave, but couldn't resist shaking up his captive. "I don't care whose side we were on, but mine gave me the opportunity to see what it was like to torture her. Chained to the wall, crying – no – begging for death, wailing your name… pitiful."

He got up from his seat and went to put the blindfold back on the blonde, as were his instructions. He tied it tightly, taking strands of her hair with the knot. "You know," he smirked, "Once Thropp comes to rescue you, in that single instant, I will kill her. She's as good as dead."

Ron made sure the door slammed behind him on the way out.

* * *

"We should rest," Elera announced, halting on her hind legs. 

The sun was rising over the Yellow Brick Road, its infamous tawny color striking as the light of morning shone upon it. The Emerald City was in view several miles ahead, the shining emerald glinting off the sunlight. It was a beacon of direction, impudent is its sovereignty.

"We're already close to the Emerald City," reasoned the Wolf. "We have no need to endanger our safety by going any closer."

"Why wouldn't it be safe? It's a city, for Merlin's sake," Harry said breathlessly, gazing at the smouldering green blotch in the skyline.

"It isn't safe for me," explained Elera. She stared in the direction Elphaba's scent was strongest, as if to add, _nor for you_.

"The forest here branches off into more woods all through Munchkinland," Elphaba said. "If we rest there, we'll be able to gather news of the city, of Weasley and Morrible's influence, of Glinda…well, you know."

"It'll be easier if I just pop into the city and keep an ear out for the unordinary," Fiyero offered, stepping around intently, as though he knew where Elphaba stood.

"Absolutely not," objected the green witch. "You're not going in there, so long as you're recognisable, with no means of defence. My final word is that we travel through the forests by the City, not in the City itself."

"Tiggular displays outstanding vigour in vulnerability," Snape droned, stepping beside Fiyero, who shot him a dirty look. "But Potter, Granger and I certainly have our defences with wands. It's obvious that you wish to avoid the City, and since Tiggular would be nothing but a burden, I say the rest of us go. We can't survive on _apples_," he sneered at the bag Elphaba dropped on the ground. "So long as we are with civilization, we'll find food, as well."

"Fine," Elphaba agreed grudgingly, her teeth were clenched. "If it'll shut you up, the gates are down the road. It's as simple as that." Her opposition squinted at the blurb of green. "Just don't wave your wands everywhere; the Gale Force will know it's a weapon."

"We'll be back," Hermione promised, before collecting with her two comrades.

"I hope not," Elphaba grumbled in the heat of the moment. Luckily, she was out of earshot. She turned to the Winkie prince, though he could not see her. He jumped when she called him. "Fiyero, we can wait in those bunches of trees until they get back. Elera, you too."

Fiyero yelped as an invisible hand gripped his wrist tightly and began to drag him away from the road. "Elphaba, let go!" he shouted. "I can walk by myself, thank you!"

"But you've no idea where to go, being that you can't see me," Elphaba said matter-of-factly.

"If you'd just stick your hand out, we wouldn't be arguing," Fiyero said with the same amount of confidence in his logistics.

"Yes, but it's a very green hand, isn't it?" She smiled beneath the cloak. "Even the trees have eyes, Fiyero. You know that." They fell into silence, watching as Hermione, Harry, and Snape descended down the road, becoming specks in the yellow brick. "Come on," she prompted suddenly, joining Elera and Fiyero to their own destination.

Elphaba only pulled off the invisibility cloak when they were safety hidden in the trees. She sat down at the giant base of an ancient tree. Fiyero plunked down besides her, rubbing his neck apprehensively. "Err, Elera," he began, looking at the Wolf awkwardly. "Do you think…I, well, um…I want to speak with Elphaba…"

Elera cocked her furry head leisurely. "You don't see me interfering. Just because I speak doesn't mean I can't shut up."

"Privately," added the Winkie, looking at the Wolf pointedly. She snorted at him, but it came out as more of a snarl of impatience.

"All right, then," she replied briskly. "I'll be over thataways if you'll be needing me." She turned around, her tail poking out like an arrow as she walked into denser wood, entertaining herself by sniffing an old trail.

"Whatever you have to say can be overheard by Elera," Elphaba scolded softly, folding the invisibility cloak carefully. "You may have offended her."

"Elphaba," Fiyero started with vigor, but seemed to think better of it, and sighed. "About telling the others...about you…I just wanted to discuss it privately. They're suspicious enough with your wariness of going into the City, and now they're _going_ into the City."

The green witch faltered, looking caught between a legitimate answer and brushing Fiyero off. She muttered a few "I's" and "well's" before the prince continued.

"Look, rumors are still flying around about you, especially with the break-in. If you don't tell them, they'll put two and two together to figure two stories about two green witches point to the same person. I think they'd appreciate your telling them more than guessing themselves," Fiyero nodded absently. "So, when do you plan to tell them?"

"If I can help it, never," Elphaba replied, smiling slightly before letting her expression fall into a frown. "I mean, it's a lot to take, faking death. And if I'm wanted here, it'll just make them uncomfortable."

"We're uncomfortable as it is, sleeping in caves," pointed out the Winkie.

"It wouldn't go over well," reiterated the green witch, leaning back and entertaining her thoughts with witch hunters. The memory of Dumbledore's face upon his death, drawn and fading, practically begging her to release the truth to their friends seemed to push past Elphaba's thoughts to stare her in the face. She bit her lip, sceptical, but the old Headmaster simply would not go away.

"I've known these people for six years," she said huskily, willing Dumbledore away. "Even so, it's hard to decipher if they'll decide to…oh, I don't know, abandon me. I couldn't ask you to choose me over Hermione, and I can't lose them, not like this."

"They wouldn't do that to us, Elphaba," Fiyero said, his tone suggesting that he was trying to assure himself.

"The circumstance would be understandable enough for them to leave, "Elphaba sighed. "For now, though, I want to do away with the subject. Please."

Sensing her distress, Fiyero reached out his hand and took it in his, hoisting her arm towards him. "That'll all right," he crooned. "I just don't want you to forgot while we're having so much fun here."

Elphaba snorted. "Yes, I do love hiking."

"Just…just keep it in mind, Elphaba." Fiyero's eyes wandered to the Wolf, who had, much to anyone's surprise, begun to climb a fat-limbed tree. "We've been running enough."

"Believe me when I say I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it," Elphaba said lightly, leaning onto Fiyero, who put a protective arm around her shoulder.

* * *

Morning in the Emerald City market turned out to be roaring with people, kiosks heavily supplied with foods and supplies, the area around them crowded with negotiating customers and gabbing friends. Some stopped to stare, others were courteous to just briefly gaze, and one teenage girl actually giggled as Harry, Hermione and Snape carefully weaved through the swarm. They were conscious of their misplacement, wearing robes that should have been washed long before now and their postures haggard from sleeping in tight spaces. 

"I don't think we should stay for very long," Harry said, looking back at someone staring, watching as they averted their eyes. "This is making me uncomfortable."

"Well, then, hurry up, Potter!" The Potions Master was well in front of his comrades, his expression laced with annoyance. "There seems to be some open air over there." He pointed to a tent a few yards away, the occasional person entering or exiting. "If you'd stop crying to actually find out how much time has gone by, you'd know the rest of us want to hurry, too."

"Someone's got a wand shoved up their a-" Harry muttered darkly.

"Harry Potter!" chastised Hermione, tugging his arm disapprovingly. "But, Snape, there's a minor quandary. Where are we going to get money?"

"Unlike you, Granger, I thought ahead," sneered the pale man, pulling out a few foreign looking coins from his robes, the metal not even shining in the sunlight from dullness. "These should sustain us for the time being, or, at least, for whatever we need now."

"Is it enough to buy the Emerald Palace?" Harry asked absently, looking past the haggling crowds into the distance where the estate in question stood.

"Where did you get that from?" demanded Hermione, plucking some coins from Snape hand to jostle them in her own, discovering they didn't shine at all.

"Fae," Snape explained, snatching back the coins. "The sooner we have food, the sooner we're free to leave." He held open the flap of the tent for Hermione to enter, walking in himself as though Harry was not behind him.

Inside were about four people, including the keeper, the other three inspecting what was laid out on tables. Various fruits, ranging from cherries to cantaloupe, laid on their respective tables, reasonable in price.

"More fruit?" Harry groaned, receiving a glare from the bushy haired witch that quieted him.

Two Ozian men adorned with fur were near the vegetables, seeming more engrossed in a conversation than shopping. Snape slunk near them; his impulses as a spy had gotten the better of him. He pretended he was inspecting cucumbers as he eavesdropped.

"-those reports?" the first one was saying, his voice hushed. "No one's been pegged yet."

"This is ridiculous," the other one rasped. "If we knew who it was, then we could all keep an eye out."

The first one's eyes glowed with deviousness, leaning in. "It's said the Wicked Witch of the West's done it."

His friend scoffed. "Like I said, ridiculous." He turned serious when the first man did not let up. "It's impossible: no one can come back from the dead. There were even witnesses."

"But don't you think it's a bit odd that she… _melted_? I mean, she was abnormal enough, but no one goes like a candle unless they're burned."

"Dorothy Gale was an honest girl. You remember, surely?" The other Ozian nervously readjusted his hat.

"Dorothy Gale was also a little twerp," the first Ozian said in a hissing whisper. Snape strained his ears to hear, figuring that this statement would be vastly offensive. "Kids make mistakes, and the witnesses were mad with hate. We all were. All I'm saying is, hypothetically, what if, somewhere down the line, someone made a mistake?"

"You mean, what if the Witch is still alive?" gulped the Ozian.

"That would explain the break in! Who else would want to rattle us like that?"

"Well, who would want to shelter that fiend?" asked the other Ozian, looking anxious and angry all at once.

"Animals," growled the first Ozian, his voice even lower now than it had been at the insult to Dorothy. "But no one can search their ghastly little villages since Lady Glinda outlawed it."

The other Ozian tilted his head, as if nodding in comprehension. "That's plausible," he muttered slowly, "but it was so long ago. The Witch was an old hag; she'd be dying now anyway."

"People say she had the ability to appear as an old crone or a young temptress," shuddered the man. "Who can say, really, what she is, besides a freak?"

"A terrifying one." The other Ozian picked up a carrot and threw it in a bag. "_That _I don't want to talk about anymore. It's giving me the chills."

The first Ozian sighed, clapping his friend on the back. "That's quite alright. T'wife's expecting me. I'd better go." He leaned in. "All I'm saying is that Emerald City should be looking out for green on a place it's only been once before." He clapped his friend on the back one last time before leaving the tent.

"Green skin," the friend chuckled, shaking his head as to be rid of all ridiculousness before retreating to pay for his purchase.

Snape growled, remembering the Wicked Witch's name, confused and suspicious all at once. Hermione and Harry were attempting to juggle with fruits that looked like a cross between a watermelon and a banana, so he dismissed the thought to whack them.

* * *

The trio found themselves weaving through people again, ready to leave the City. They were receiving fewer stares now that the market had cleared considerably. It was noon, and finding food proved more difficult a task than they had anticipated. 

"Do you see that?" Hermione stopped walking, grabbing Harry's arm so that he would look in the direction she meant. The Boy-Who-Lived and Snape looked on.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "Yeah, I do. Are they…mobbing?"

"No, you idiot, they're crowding around something," snapped the Potions Master, shoving his bagful of food in the other man's arms. "And we will, too."

As they neared, the amount of people wasn't as large as it appeared, but there was still a horde of people squished into a corner of a building, whispering ominously, gasping when appropriate. One man shouted, "Vandals!" before storming off as though it was the end of the matter, but other people were gossiping about how "it" wasn't there that morning.

Snape was reluctant to brush up against all the people, but Hermione and Harry pushed through to see the object of everyone's concentration. It was vandalising a brick wall, painted on the grey blocks with crimson paint, bright and clear.

_ELPHABA LIVES_.

The two friends paused, looking at one another sceptically. Speaking with their knowledge wouldn't be wise in a crowd, so they pushed their way out of it, gathered Snape, and left the City without another word.

* * *

"_Elphaba lives_?" Hermione repeated, trudging along the Yellow Brick Road with a paper bag in her arms. "Well, of course she does. But what's it to everyone else?" 

"She's helped Animals when they were considered worthless," Harry suggested. "Maybe she was a face in their rebellion."

"Not when they're tolerated now," Snape frowned, opting to levitate his bags instead of carry them. "Glinda's made them equal citizens, and it doesn't seem like people want to force her to take it back. They don't hate Animals, but they seem to hate Fae."

"We've got _that_, Snape," Harry smirked. "But _why_?"

The afternoon sun was especially bright, beating down on the brightly colored road. It absorbed the heat, leaving the robed trio to feel unpleasantly humid. Snape wiped sweat from his brow before continuing. "I heard something in the tent today," he said, grabbing the others' attention immediately. "Two men were gossiping about the break-in, and how the Wicked Witch of the West could be the cause."

"Oh, she sounds scary," Hermione said, but shrunk back when Snape glared at her. "Well, from an outside perspective…"

"They were talking about how she might not be dead, and the something else that's worth a thought."

"Spit it out, then," Harry prompted. "You're acting like we don't have fun lugging this stuff back in the heat."

The pasty man scowled at the comment, but didn't say anything. The subject was too important. "They said that she had one feature Oz has only seen the likes of once. They said she had green skin."

"They said she had…" Hermione mumbled, retreating into her head to make sense of it. "So you think Fae has something to do with the Witch?"

"No, I think the Witch has something to do with why Fae is hiding," Snape corrected, his tone suggesting the reiteration made all the difference. "And Tiggular certainly seems defensive about it."

"But wasn't the Witch evil?" Harry asked, pushing his spectacles back on his nose, sweat from his brow sliding them down.

"To the citizens, it would seem," the bushy haired witch replied. "But didn't she help Animals? I mean, lots of things get lost in translation when two sides are conflicting, and even more so when they communicate through myths."

"We've been wondering why Fae won't tell us about her life in Oz," Harry began, struggling under the weight of his own bag. "Because of an incident, or maybe something she's wanted to forget about her family. Isn't that what you said, Snape?"

Snape growled in response, so the Boy-Who-Lived continued. "Maybe her skin color is genetic or something- maybe the Wicked Witch was related to her. Her sister or her mother or something."

The Potions Master sighed with exasperation, throwing up his arms. Hermione seemed to understand what he was about to say before he spoke, nodding grimly at him. "Or maybe," he enunciated clearly, as though Harry was a child, " Fae and the Witch are one in the same."

* * *

"Oh man, it's been a while since I ate bread!" Fiyero exclaimed happily, taking Hermione's bag when the trio arrived back to the forest. The three had continued to discuss their theory of Elphaba's alter ego as they ambled back, deciding, as they searched through the dense wood, to confront the Ozians. 

"I hope you found everything okay," Elphaba sighed, leaning back into the shade of the giant tree she sat under.

"Food is not all we've found," implied Snape, his bags falling on the ground, tipping over from carelessness as he advanced towards the green witch.

"Snape," Hermione called, her tone suggesting he behave kinder.

Elphaba's expression was neutral, but her eyes were sparkling with nervousness. Fiyero stopped rummaging through the new food to step in beside Snape, as though it would protect the green witch.

"That's all right," she said softly, turning her gaze steadily on the Potions Master. "What are you talking about?"

"We've waited long enough." The wizard looked down at her in a way that made Elphaba wish she were wearing the invisibility cloak. "You owe it to us now to admit why you and Tiggular left Oz. And what the Wicked Witch has to do with it."

Suddenly, Elphaba looked as though she would never regain her healthy verdant color again.

**Coming up: Elphaba confesses the truth…and her friends' reaction. Plus, Ron, Markku, and Morrible finally act.**

**If y'all review, I might post chapter 13 up a bit earlier than next Friday. We'll see…**

**-Wolfie**


	13. You'll Go Away With Me

**The title from chapter twelve was from….Spring Awakening. Congrats to: Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Elizabeth Odessky, Wickedgreenchild, Defying Gravity 728, TryDefyingGravity, X-Kate-X, Courtney Dax, Anne Flint, magnam13, and melissa Ivory. **

**I feel like being nice (and I promised Gravi), so you get this chapter early. **

**And Cardboard is love. Because she wrote the Morrible scene. –gives Cardboard chocolate cake- **

**Chapter 13: You'll Go Away With Me**

Dumbledore was a many things. He was a leader, he was modest, he was courageous, but one thing Elphaba never forgot was just how clever a man he was. Although he claimed to assume most of what he knew, the hunches he devised were almost always correct.

So when he lay in his own blood, trying his best to die a dignified death, demanding that she tell her friends the truth about Oz as though he knew it for fact, it startled Elphaba. If he knew it for a fact, then it must be true.

"You're right," she nodded, sitting in the shade with her legs crossed Indian style, receiving glares from her friends. "It's about time I told the truth. You should probably sit down for the whole story, though." She made an odd noise from within her throat. "Fiyero, let Snape alone."

They were all situated around the tree, facing Elphaba as though she was a schoolteacher about to spin a tale for her class. "Out with it, then," Snape prompted gruffly.

Elphaba gazed into Snape's unforgiving eyes to find him glaring back at her, a blatant mistrust written all over his features. It wounded the green witch to know that he could drop his belief in her so suddenly. She settled for looking away from him to Harry and Hermione's inquisitive expressions instead. Fiyero looked as though he was mentally preparing for a nuclear explosion where his ex-girlfriend was sitting.

"The Wicked Witch of the West has everything to do with my life here," she began slowly. She paused, thinking of how to word the confession, deciding on simplicity. "I am she."

There was a certain hostility in the air, one Elphaba supposed emanated mostly from herself. The British trio seemed to be attempting to digest the news, although their perception of the Wicked Witch was naïve and limited. The tree leaves were rustling in the wind; it was the only sound in the area for a moment. Elphaba glanced at Fiyero for reassurance, who looked about ready to squeeze his eyes closed and stick his fingers in his ears.

"Fine." Hermione spoke first, yet it sounded more like a squeak. She had edged the tiniest space away from the green witch, fear in her eyes, as though their relationship in the past six years was unwritten. "Tell us your side of the story."

It was refreshing to hear those words, as no one had spoken them to Elphaba in regards to her 'wicked' title. Although her friends didn't seem to want to remain so for very long, it encouraged her to retell the story. She masked the hurt manifesting in her heart from their adverse looks.

"There's a university here- it's called Shiz," she said, starting with the basics. "It probably started there. I'd always had these…abnormal powers, like a wizard's, even when I was younger…"

* * *

It took over an hour to relay her side of the story completely, pausing along the way to digress into questions from Snape, Harry, and Hermione. They seemed to grow more comfortable with her as she spoke, as though the shock was wearing off, but the usual trust and loyalty displayed before didn't seem to exist anymore. They all talked at once.

"How-"

"Why-"

"When-"

Snape scowled at the other two, silencing them as though he won by default to speak first. "What I gather from this," he said, glaring at Elphaba, "is that you used us to hide from your problems here."

Elphaba didn't want to reply. She felt that if she spoke, her mouth would relax, and then waver, giving way to tears she didn't want to shed. Both Fiyero and Hermione turned to argue with the Potions Master, who kept accusing anyhow.

"You helped us in the war, that much is true, but it seems your participation was borne from the need for a place to stay," he growled.

The green witch wanted to argue that Hogwarts had been offered to her and Fiyero as a home, and its inhabitants had become like family to her, even if she was hiding from Oz. She wanted to throw in his face that she didn't know much about his past either, but she merely stuttered quietly.

"It was, wasn't it?' Snape asked with disappointment, as if expecting the green witch to erupt with all her thoughts.

Fiyero shook his head, going to sit down beside Elphaba. "I take the blame for this too," he said. "We came to England together, much younger and ignorant. What else were we supposed to do?"

"That's not necessary, Yero," Elphaba sighed, ignoring the tenderness that crept up Fiyero's face at the usage of his old nickname.

"She asked you to keep quiet, Fiyero," Harry said, not unkindly. He wasn't trying to be cruel, but the dark haired wizard was gritting his teeth in the fashion that he normally did when he was angry. "Which you honored, because you were in love."

Elphaba bit her lip in thought, looking from face to face of the other three. She stood up. "I'm going for a…a walk," she hummed. "I'll be back in an hour or so; we should all clear our heads."

Snape's pasty face still looked like he had swallowed a lemon. The green witch didn't think he'd be able to get over his assumption of her fighting Voldemort for an excuse to hide from Oz. Or worse yet, that she fought Voldemort and won.

Elphaba looked at him pointedly, receiving a glare. "I believed in your war," she told him earnestly, boring her eyes into his. "I hoped you would believe in mine."

She stalked away without waiting for him to reply, changing into a sleek, black panther to gain distance from them in a shorter time. Fiyero didn't seem to want her to leave. He stood up after her, but then glanced down at where she once sat. A thin, lengthy stick of wood was lying humbly in the soil.

He cursed loudly, drawing attention from his companions. Fiyero grabbed the wand and ran out into the clearing, only to discover that Elphaba was nowhere in sight. He swore loudly again, kicking the earth.

* * *

Elphaba wanted to talk to Glinda very badly. She clung to the idea like a life source, even if she _had_ left the damned mirror at Hogwarts. The blonde had a way of putting things in perspective, shooting for optimism though she might not be trying. Or maybe it was Elphaba's imagination. Maybe that was just what love was like.

A hearty hour must have had passed since Elphaba had left the group. She had been wandering through the woods, returning to her lithe, green self to pace madly along the soils. She had figured, like Tom Riddle, her past would come back to rear its head sometime. People kept mentioning to her that the life she made in Oz, however dangerous, made her the person she was, and she could never escape that. Elphaba just wasn't prepared for it.

It was getting dark. What was viewable from the sky was becoming muddled with a purple haze, the sunset long gone. The rational part of Elphaba's brain, the one that she liked to think took up a better half, told her that digestion was necessary for a story like hers, and that her friends would come around to accept her again naturally, but the childish fear of loss was shattered by a sudden ruckus behind her.

It was a rustle, really, one that could have been created by a scampering animal. If it were Elera, Elphaba figured the Wolf would have presented herself by then. She swallowed a lump in her throat, realizing that a wild animal would have left by now, instead of making the noise repeatedly in the same place.

Elphaba clenched her wand hand into a tight fist, unarmed and feeling vulnerable to whatever was approaching. With her wand, at least she could create a light to see what was going on. Instead, just as she stood from the rotting stump she occupied, something leapt from the bushes to roughly tackle the green witch to the ground.

There was a man, bulky and heaving, sitting on her stomach and pummelling the organ that digested her food, which knocked the wind out of her. Elphaba's back made contact with jagged stones, and she cried out loudly, too surprised from the sudden action to react. Around them were other men emerging from the bushes, and Elphaba, through abrupt pain, felt foolish for not noticing before it was too late.

"Auzne, dammit, shut her up!" bellowed one man. Elphaba eyes were watering, and she couldn't specifically make out his face. "I would like to avoid killing her party, if I can help it."

"I'm trying," grunted the man from atop the green witch. He struggled as Elphaba regained her ferocity, bucking and thrashing as hard she could to break loose, but the other men joined Auzne to hold down her limbs.

She flailed still as they held her down, working to avoid Auzne's pulverizing fists. She jumped, however, at the jolt of a freezing object on her pulse. "From Weasley," Giro explained, and at first, Elphaba thought he was taunting her. However, he elaborated further, explaining to his comrades. "It's to prevent her from…transforming, whatever the hell that means."

Her struggle was becoming feeble, and her wand was forgotten at her makeshift campsite, rendering Elphaba not only angry, but panicking. Auzne's hands neared her mouth, and like a scared animal, she snapped her teeth in an attempt to latch on.

"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" Auzne chuckled. "Luckily, I've dealt with spirited people before."

He roughly yanked Elphaba's head back by grabbing a handful of her hair, causing her to yelp, but his other hand held a gag, which he shoved down her throat. Auzne leered down at her, satisfied with his work.

One against fifteen was a useless fight. There was a man who kept his hands around her throat, threatening to choke her if she struggled any more; her defences had been completely stripped. Her loss of control dealt a great blow to her ego, but when they pulled her upright, she still tried to tussle and elbow out of their grip.

"Come on!" Giro griped, looking nervous. "It shouldn't take so long to capture a _woman_, for crying out loud. Even if she _is_ the Wicked Witch of the West, are you too scared to take her on?"

"I don't see you helping!" Auzne snapped, revealing a thick rope from his pocket. He kneed Elphaba in the stomach when she twisted her body, and she sagged, as if to double over. Others tugged her arms behind her roughly, tying them together in a way to cut off her circulation. They did the same to her ankles. Elphaba's restraints resembed that of a slave's, and she scowled at the thought.

"Alright, now if you just did that in the first place, we'd be gone by now," Giro mentioned casually.

"She was fighting back," Auzne roared with annoyance, "and we've got to be careful with her."

"Afraid she'll hex you, Auzne?" the other man teased, but their session was interrupted as Elera sprang from the bushes, snarling and gnashing her teeth. Elphaba called her name in warning, but the syllables came out muffled.

So instead, they met eyes, and Elphaba gave the Wolf her most serious look. Despite her helplessness, she didn't want to convey it, so she shot a warning, dark stare at the Wolf, who seemed to recognise the signal. _Stay back_.

"Get the tranquilizer dart!" shouted an unidentified capturer, another man dashing back to a cart in the trees. "Hurry up!"

Other men were fending Elera off, hurling branches and fallen wood, yet the Wolf neared threateningly closer. Elphaba knew that Elera couldn't undo the ropes that bound her, so she shook her head violently for the Wolf to stay back.

An object shot through the air, landing where Elera once was, who had sped away not an instant too soon. Elphaba fixed her with a glare, wondering if she could possibly look dignified and pleading at once. If the darts met their target, Elera would die, and the green witch could not live with the knowledge that she was there and could not help.

"It's a Wolf!" another man bellowed, sounding frantic. "It's one of the Witch's rebel Animals!"

"Shut up, you idiot, and hit it!" Giro commanded, a series of shots ringing out in compliance to his orders. Elphaba's eyes were cold, warding the Wolf back into the bush. Hopefully, she would not come back.

Three particularly bulky looking men retreated into the bushes to make sure that Elera was gone. They emerged with relieved expression. Giro nodded, giving the command to go back to their hideout. Elphaba was easily swooped up, consequently getting a few painful blows for struggling, and she was thrown into the back of the cart.

The back of her head connected loudly with the trim on the interior, temporarily blinding her vision with blue light. When her sight returned, it began to fade again, and Elphaba slipped into unconsciousness. The last thing she witnessed were the men not leering at her with amusement, but following orders and slamming shut the back of her prison.

* * *

Glinda was blindfolded. The material was far too rough on her flesh and it had been tied tightly in a knot at the base of her head, but the discomfort from her hands being bound together and her ankles to the chair legs was far greater. Albeit, without the use of her eyes, she couldn't decipher anything of where she was, although she remembered what it looked like when Ron had taken the blindfold off.

The steady, questionable scent of the room was foul, and she knew there were no windows, an old trunk on her left, and a fireplace to her right. Now and again, her steady breaths shook, and she wished, against her logical reasoning, that Elphaba would come and rescue her. But again, she also wished that the damn green witch would stay out of danger from Ron. The blonde sat in her place for a long time, most likely hours, which felt more like days to the woman, until someone opened the door.

She could feel the silent footsteps shake the unstable chair she was bound to. Glinda thought it was the Death Eater coming to check on her until the person violently ripped off the blindfold, taking with it a few stray hairs from her blonde locks. Glinda shrieked at the unexpected impact, shrinking back into the chair as best she could, before slowly opening one lidded eye to inspect her kidnapper.

"Oh, careful dear. You could flip over in that rickety old thing," Morrible advised, her face not contorted into a malicious grin, like Ron, but rather, passive as it always had been.

The blonde was horrified. This was a chunk, literally, of her past that was meant to be out of view, deserving of a lifelong sentence, but there Morrible was. She looked different somehow, older, if possible, and her once magnificent display of fashion and makeup was nowhere in sight. _Yet_, Glinda mused hatefully.

"No, 'hello Madame'? No, 'it's good to see you, Madame'? My child, I'm rather surprised. It's a bit of a shock, but you could at least greet a former mentor properly," the fat, old woman accused, her puffy cheeks wobbling when she spoke.

Looking at the old Headmistress of Shiz flooded memories back to Glinda- ones of Elphaba striking out against the Wizard and flying off into the night, of Fiyero giving them the chance to do the same, but of the blonde fighting him off. There stood a woman who was influential and possibly even more debauched than the Wizard, meaning that Glinda had failed to do her duty correctly.

"This can't be...how could you…" the blonde trailed off, her words more choked from not knowing what to say.

"I understand. You need time to make your little brain process enough words to form a sentence." Morrible circled around Glinda's chair, and the blonde tugged at her restraints, making them tighter, to her great displeasure. "It's good that I have much to say, then."

She looked Glinda up and down. "Not so ardent to wearing ostentatious dresses anymore, are we? Some people's fashion senses loosen as time flies…" she trailed off, clapping her hands at the thought. "Speaking of _flying_, I hear dear Miss Elphaba is alive and well!"

"Don't you touch her, you fat-" roared the blonde suddenly, but Morrible's booming voice overpowered the rest of her cursing words.

"Mm, yes, I also hear you're kind of..._fond_ of one another." The old woman spat her words out at the thought. "Must be something to do with your incomplete college experience. Tell me, though: However did you manage to find she who wished not to be found?"

"If you hurt her, I will-"

"You'll what? Throw sparkles at me? You sweet, stupid little thing, you're threatening the woman whose influence led the Wizard to all his memorable enforcements. You're a _teeny little bug_," Morrible took Glinda's slight chin in her chubby fingers and wagged the blonde's face, "and I'm a Lurline-damned _mountain_."

Despite herself, Glinda snorted. "Well," she said lightly, the temptation too great, "you certainly are giant."

"Silence!" Morrible barked, throwing back the blonde's chin and causing the chair to wobble warningly. "For years, I've been away in Southstairs while you took the throne that was never rightfully yours. Then, behind the backs of the Ozians, you cherished a lover they all thought was dead!"

"My secrets are much more forgivable than the things you denied this country," Glinda said, gathering her courage. "Encaging Animals, making people believe they weren't equal, when the Ozians were so vulnerable. They didn't need an enemy; they needed _better _leaders!"

Morrible walloped her on the side of the face, not in a slap, but the places where the old woman's fingernails lingered stung down Glinda's cheek.

"My confidant went back to his world," Morrible said, her outrageous accent causing Glinda to cringe, "which is a fitting end to a foolish man. And now, it seems, another sovereign will be reunited with their companion...for a fitting end of term."

Dread enveloped Glinda, starting as numbness in her heart, slowly creeping up her skull and shoulders and seeping down to her stomach. She felt nauseous, and her chest felt hollow, her heart feeling too large with each beat.

As Morrible watched in satisfaction, she took a breath, her voice venomous. "Elphaba," Glinda began slowly, as if spelling it out, "is more powerful than the two of us combined. Her power will override your useless little changes in the weather. She can stop you, and she will."

"On the contrary, my dear, I am in possession of the Grimmerie," explained the old Headmistress.

"You can barely read it," Glinda cried, adding for effect, "You cow! Elphaba was casting spells not a minute after opening it, and she's graduated from that to higher things."

"That may be so," Morrible said, "but it's been taken into account already. With my allies and the Grimmerie, there is little that will stop me now. You've not a notion of what I can do."

"She will stop you," seethed the blonde.

"Oh, this and that...your hummingbird voice is very annoying, and matching intellect quite assuming. Not to worry, though. You'll reunite with your green bean soon enough, just in time for-"

The old woman was cut off as the shadowed door creaked open, giving way to a cloaked figure, his face exposed. His features were shadowed, being that the light in the room was feeble, but Glinda could tell they hardened when he looked at her.

"Madame," he said, "they've returned. And they are fruitful."

Madame Morrible clasped her hands with a joyful expression. "Oh, wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I'll be with you in a minute, gentleman."

The man nodded grimly and backed out of the door, shutting it behind him. Morrible turned to Glinda with the blindfold still dangling off a finger.

"Soon enough," she repeated, then laughed. "I've so much in store. Stick around, will you?"

Morrible chuckled again. She threw the blindfold in Glinda's face, causing the blonde to flinch as it fell in her lap. Glinda watched as the fat woman left the room. The mechanical sounds of various locks being turned were heard before footsteps grew dim. Glinda sat there breathing, the weak light not improving the situation in the least. She was left to contemplate what Morrible exactly meant and to pray that Elphaba wouldn't come to Oz.

"You promised me, Elphie," she muttered breathily, the words barely audible. She wanted Elphaba to be able to hear.

**Coming up: The stuff nightmares are made of. **

**Have some strawberry cakes. –winks-**

**-Wolfie**


	14. How Did We Come to This

**The title from chapter thirteen was from See What I Wanna See. Congrats to: Yank2324, TryDefyingGravity, Courtney Dax, Raiko Toho, Kalacyn, and Anne Flint.**

**Ah…back to Friday updates. I like Friday updates. I have no school today. **

**Chapter 14: How Did We Come to This**

When Elphaba came to, she immediately regretted opening her eyes. She swayed at her dizzied vision, attempting to control herself by blinking furiously. She gave up; instead, she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the dizziness would stop that way. The green witch would have rubbed her troublesome temples if it weren't for the iron shackles around her wrists.

Panic surged through her body like electricity. Against her back was a hard, flat surface. A wall. Her limbs were chained to it. She had no way of knowing how far from the floor she was, being that her surroundings were covered in a thick sheet of darkness.

It was her nightmare all over again, rushing back to her like an embarrassing childhood memory. Elphaba had run out of her supply of dreamless sleep potion a few nights ago, and this time, the nightmare seemed quite vivid. It felt almost _too_ realistic. She willed it away by thrashing madly at her restraints. She did not want to see Voldemort's searing eyes, nor Dumbledore's twisted grin. However, she found that neither of them appeared.

Instead, as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, another face came into view. It was watching her impassively and was shadowed at the peaks and curves of his face, but the green witch made him out all the same.

_Weasley._ The name hissed through her mind like a balloon losing air, or like blood pouring out of her from those mindless hours of torture in the Riddle House. Her reaction must have pleased him, as his face transformed into a pleasant smile.

"I see you're awake," he greeted. Elphaba knew immediately that this was not another one of her nightmares, but a reality. The Death Eater's voice was different somehow, as though he knew of her fears and wanted to show her that it was real. Elphaba wished it was just a figment of her imagination. She would gladly have accepted it as a foolish, vivid nightmare.

At least then, she could wake up.

"There's no need to talk." Ron held up his wand as the green witch opened her mouth. "Your presence speaks for itself."

The back of Elphaba's head was throbbing, but not enough to make her incoherent. She was conscious of every aspect of the atmosphere, feeling through the dark where figures might be. She anticipated a table to her right, and maybe a door on the opposite wall. There were sensations of people walking down what could have been a narrow hallway behind her. She felt that there was a moving figure just out of her view; she could practically hear their breathing.

Elphaba peered at the redhead weakly, waiting for him to keep talking, as he inevitably would.

"The great and mighty Elphaba Thropp!" he bellowed, throwing up his arms. "You're in this position far too often to be considered so great and mighty. I must admit, my wand is itching to try you out, but I'll refrain for now." Ron leaned in, as though there was a big secret to share, "Good things come to those who wait."

"I'll refrain from kicking your sorry arse, then," Elphaba said. She found that her voice was not raspy and deprived, but clear and confident as it always was. This guaranteed her that she was not dreaming, which agitated her even more.

"What is it with prisoners finding their ferocity when I mock them? I mean, _honestly_!" Ron whipped Elphaba's face with the length of his wand. A loud whooshing noise filled the green witch's ears before the wand stung her cheek. "You're being rude, Thropp."

Elphaba spat at him in defiance, narrowly missing the redhead's face. He chucked at her poor aim. "But then again, you've always been rude, haven't you? Socially, at least...like being lovers with your stupid little blonde." Ron waved his hand, sneering with disgust. "I wonder… are you scared for her? Are you scared yet, Thropp?"

"_If you think you can scare me, Weasley, you've got to try harder than that," Elphaba mocked. She had been chained to the freezing stone wall in the figure of a crucifix, with her arms shackled out at her sides. It was the redheaded Death Eater's turn to interrogate her, and when she said nothing, he had threatened Glinda's life, as usual._

_She knew Ron couldn't enter Hogwarts without being caught by Order members or Aurors, and Dumbledore would keep Glinda safety in the castle. At this point, Ron was just a boy to her, one that had lost direction and knew nothing about his decisions._

"_You want me to scare you, then?" Ron suggested menacingly, flicking his wand to and fro. "Trust me, Thropp, I haven't even begun trying."_

"_You're a sad little boy, Weasley," Elphaba muttered, wheezing slightly from recently acquired injuries. The green witch didn't know exactly how long she'd been in the room, but it was long enough that any feeling had been drained from her limbs, and she counted six fruitless interrogations._

"_What was that?" Ron said, exaggeratingly cupping his ear as though he was hard of hearing. "You want me to start trying? So be it."_

_The Death Eater threw the Cruciatus curse at her. The green witch winced against her restraints, twisting her body away from the wall in pain._

"_What was that? Did you say," Ron stepped forward, "that you still weren't scared?"_

_He cursed her again. The red color from his wand wracked Elphaba's body with pain, and her lips parted to emit a yell. Her limbs were shaking, although the only time she could actually feel them was when the curse jittered through them. _

"_You're not even screaming yet," Ron complained, hitting her with the curse yet again. Elphaba writhed in pain, and she finally let out a horrible shriek._

_The Death Eater began to hit her with the curse repeatedly, taking her out of the spell for tiny instances until she caught her breath before cursing her again. Elphaba could not restrain herself anymore; screams poured from her lips as the curse wracked her body._

"_Are you scared yet, Thropp__?" Ron roared over her screaming. "__Did you hear what I said? I am going to find Glinda and torture her until the bloody cows come home! Tell me what I want to know, you bitch!__"_

_The curse was lifted, and Elphaba's head hung to connect with her chest. She sucked in air desperately, not wanting to meet the Death Eater's gaze._

Elphaba's eyes focused on Ron's. "You blank out much, Thropp?" he asked sardonically.

"You people keep bludgering my skull. I don't appreciate brain damage," she replied sarcastically, swallowing the fear from her memory. She wasn't going to give in so easily.

"For such a clever student, you certainly wouldn't want to lose your brains." The figure that was just out of reach finally spoke as she took a step into the light.

The green witch inhaled sharply as she recognized the person. She realized now for sure that Glinda had lied to her. The blonde _did _know who had escaped from Southstairs, and she was standing right in front of Elphaba.

"Morrible!" the green witch hissed.

"Oh my dear, don't look so surprised!" the old woman laughed. "Let me take a look at you." She peered closely at Elphaba, shifting from side to side to inspect the woman's profile. "Still quite green." She turned to Ron, who was waiting obediently. "That'll be all, thank you."

Ron nodded before retreating into the darkness and exiting from the door, which was exactly where Elphaba predicted it to be.

"He's very helpful, that boy," mused Morrible. "I predict he was a hard entity to battle against back in that… war, was it, you fought?"

"Not really," Elphaba said dryly. "If your investments aren't to his benefit, then he'll back out at the last minute."

"It's a good thing that his benefit is entangled with my own." Morrible's rouge painted lips cracked a smile. "Once we're finished, you'll belong to him, and your Miss Glinda will be mine."

"Finished with what, exactly?" Elphaba asked coolly, hiding her concern at the mentioning of Glinda's name. She hoped the blonde didn't know she was in Oz, but the expression Madame Morrible wore told her otherwise. The old woman's expression was familiar to Elphaba: she was satisfied with herself.

"My dear celery stick," Morrible proclaimed triumphantly, "No ruler of Oz can conceal their surreptitiousness for long. All the little things Miss Glinda kept hush-hush from the Ozians, like… _you_, for instance, uncover themselves eventually. And with a small _push_," Morrible poked Elphaba in the stomach, her long, potentially dangerous fingernail denting the witch's emerald flesh beneath her clothing, "those cloak-and-dagger love affairs will come out very, very soon."

"If you think overthrowing Glinda will gain you any clout, you're wrong," Elphaba spat. "You're a conniving, wicked old thing, no matter how much you hide. You talk about secrets, Morrible, when your own list of them is shameful."

"I would be careful throwing around words like 'wicked', oh Wicked Witch of the West," Morrible chuckled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there is much to prepare. Exposing a popular political figure takes precision. Only I have the skill it takes to order these dim-wits around and get it right." She winked.

"We'll see how far you go with Weasley," Elphaba smiled. "He's a traitor to his original side in England."

Morrible seemed troubled at this, but was quick to conceal it. "And why should I trust your judgement?" she asked, ticking out her giant bosom and rolling her tongue superiorly.

Elphaba smirked at her. However high she was being restrained from the floor, it was enough for her to look down on the old woman. "Because I'm green with envy," she cried sarcastically, "at all your good looks and honest success."

Madame Morrible huffed and waddled away from the room. Elphaba closed her eyes and visualized the old woman walking down the hall, feeling her heavy footsteps through the barrier between them.

* * *

Snape was unyielding when it came time for Fiyero to put in his half of Elphaba's fight. It didn't take much of a proposal for Harry and Hermione to see reason and understand Elphaba's story. They understood the circumstances of the Wicked Witch of the West, Harry having vast experience with those who were falsely accused. However, Snape's arms were crossed, any sign of hurt from Elphaba's confession transferred into anger.

"This is _exactly_ why Elphaba didn't want to tell you this way," Fiyero pleaded, his teeth grinding madly to restrain himself from lunging at the stubborn Potions Master. "She was trying to protect you and your friendship."

"We have spent six years in the dark, and it is partly your fault," Snape summarized. "However, that does not undo time spent. I will refrain from speaking of her treachery, but that does not mean that I will forget it."

"Snape, why do you have to be such a bastard all the time?" Harry stood up from his resting spot to point his finger in Snape's face. "I mean, your past isn't exactly open and peachy, is it?"

"My past does not include the same villainy and deceit as Fae's," the Potions Master said calmly, though his mouth twitched, already curled into a sneer. Fiyero gave a small cough of disbelief in the background. "But what I agreed to do was to stop pressing the matter."

"Couldn't you at least try to imagine what Fae must be feeling right now?" Harry roared. "She's been keeping it in for so long for one reason only. You're the reason, Snape! She said nothing because you would react predictably and become an absolute prick!"

Hermione studied their surroundings with anxiety, as they could not view the sky overhead, but the atmosphere was chilling, and it was getting darker. It was becoming difficult to differentiate facial specifics, meaning that the sun had set, but Elphaba had yet to arrive back. Fiyero was peering out into the growing darkness, so she reached for his arm.

"Is Fae coming back?" she asked.

Fiyero combed his fingers through his hair before facing her. "There's no sight of her; that's what worries me," he replied tensely. "We've been waiting over an hour, and she keeps good time."

"Fae can take care of herself," Harry reminded, taking a breather from his argument with Snape. "If she were here, she'd be telling you that right now."

"I'd hoped she _be_ here telling me that by now," Fiyero sighed. "But she's forgotten her wand, so if she's attacked-"

"She can transform and run," Hermione finished. "As a large cat, she could easily run from or win any fight, and besides, we're in the middle of a forest. What are you expecting?"

"You'd be surprised how likely it is she'll be spotted," Fiyero said, letting his lips twist into a wry smile. "They hated her so much before, so if they see her this time, they'll want to kill her. Elphaba left out the part where crowds of people formed a witch hunt. This time, though-"

"Fiyero," called Hermione finally, breaking his rant. He looked up at his girlfriend expectantly. "Fae's much more aware than you give her credit for." She neared him, laying her palms of his shoulders. "She will be back soon. If it'll makes you feel better, we'll go out looking if she's still not back in fifteen minutes."

"I know, it's just," the Winkie sighed, "I promised to take care of her, and I've failed once already."

"Fifteen minutes," the bushy haired witch repeated. "Give her time. You can yell at her later."

Frantic howling erupted from behind them. Four heads snapped up simultaneously to meet the source. Now there was whining, and the grasses shifted as the intruder stumbled closer. Elera burst through the clearing. Snape and Harry stood immediately with their hands to their wands.

The Wolf was panting like a dying dog, her tongue hanging carelessly from the side of her mouth. Flecks of blood riddled her coat, and it matted the hair in uneven clumps. Her eyes, yellow and frightening, were wild.

"Elera," Hermione greeted hesitantly, taking a step closer to the Wolf in concern. "Are you all right?"

"Never mind me," gasped Elera, ready to collapse in a pile of limbs. "Morrible… Elphaba…ambush…gone…"

"What?" Fiyero demanded, stepping all the way to the Wolf, holding her head up and helping her stand on all fours. "What's happened to Elphaba, and how do you know Morrible has something to do with it? Do you know where they are?"

"Elphaba was ambushed by Morrible's men," Elera clarified, finding her voice. She nodded in consideration to the Winkie's assistance, then shook him off. "I tried to stop them, I really did. But there were too many of them, and they had darts…"

Fiyero kicked the base of a tree, roaring. He began to pace, a feature influenced by the green witch. Although he would not admit it, Fiyero had nightmares of Elphaba's physical shape when they had rescued her from the Riddle House half a year ago. This, mixed with his rapid imagination, created images of what they might have done to her.

This time, Weasley wasn't going to risk the chance of Elphaba escaping, and he would probably kill her immediately. She was the face of his vendetta, whatever that was, exactly. He would torture the green witch, Fiyero was certain of it, but it was only a question of _how_.

"They tied her up and gagged her," Elera explained, shaking her coat out as if it would rid her of the blood. "Threw her in what looked like a cart; I could hear her head hit the backboard- it was that hard." She paused in thought. "And they put this…metal collar around her neck."

Fiyero gazed at the Snape intently. "Care to explain the collar?"

"It prevents animagus transformations." Snape complied, any signs of distress from the news concealed. The Potions Master's wormy lips curled into a snarl. "After Black's escape from Azkaban, the Ministry began to use them on prisoners. Weasley must have filched one."

"So, you're saying," Fiyero summarized slowly, holding in his outrage, which was just a cover for panic anyhow, "that Elphaba has no wand, and she can't transform, leaving no means of escape? Damn it all to hell!" he bellowed, kicking the stump again. He shook his foot from the sudden pain creeping up his toes.

"We have to help her," Harry said quietly. "Hermione, we need to figure out where they took her."

Hermione nodded, pulling out her wand. She observed it as though it might have changed since its last use, then placed it gently on her palm. "Locaterous Elphaba Thropp," she enunciated clearly. The wand spun around in her palm, lazily at first, then whipped wildly, until she halted it with her free hand, biting her lip. "Ron's protected the location with wards," she announced disappointedly.

"You expected anything else?" grumbled Snape.

Harry looked to the Wolf. "Do you…do you think you could track down Fae's scent?"

"I've been trying since they took her." Elera shook her head tiredly. "I couldn't keep up, and I lost the scent. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for. You tried your best," Hermione said sympathetically, although she was tapping her wand to her thigh in perplexity.

"Weasley will know about Elphaba's…status here in Oz," Fiyero thought out loud. "He can use that against her. And if Glinda finds out, she'll do anything to stop him, which means he can discredit her."

"Two birds with one stone," Harry mused, then shook his head. "So, what are we going to do?"

There was silence in the wood for an instant. It was unnerving, as even the birds ceased to chirp. It brought a definite sense of discomfort in the dark, but Snape was the first to speak up, to everyone else's surprise.

"We do nothing," he said, scowling at outraged reactions. "Let me finish, you idiots. If we act blindly, we will play into Weasley's hands. He was a Death Eater. Therefore, he knows the cunning of the art and should not be underestimated. We should go into the city to find information. If Weasley wants to expose Fae, he'll do it when crowds are plentiful."

"Especially if Glinda will be there," Hermione added grimly. "I agree with Snape," she said, bending down to collect what little belongings they carried. "We should go onto the road and see what comes of it."

Elera stood on her two hind legs, making an effort to slowly make it to her giant height, looking down at the others. "I dare not enter the City," she began. "But I will gather others and warn them. For whatever reason, if you cannot find me and are in need of assistance, simply mention Miss Elphaba to any Animal. They will make a fine replacement. When you do find her, wish her well for me."

The Wolf took off into the underbrush, the echoes of her feet padding into solid soil growing distant in her sudden departure. Snape flicked his wand at the rest of their bags, and they levitated off the ground, hovering at waist-height. The bushy haired witch made for Harry's invisibility cloak.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" barked the Potions Master. "An invitation from Weasley?"

He turned and made for the road with Hermione on his heels, leaving Fiyero and Harry to peer at one another in the dark, digesting what changes had befallen them. They scampered to catch up, as the branches concealing the sky soon made the area pitch black.

**Coming up: Finally reunited.**

**-Wolfie**


	15. Endless Night

**The title from chapter fourteen was from The Wild Party. Congrats to: Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Courtney Dax, melissa Ivory, and X-Kate-X.**

**I have the weekend from hell. So I won't be responding to reviews until Monday. Just know that they're **_**really**_** appreciated! Thanks!**

**Chapter 15: Endless Night**

Various latches and locks were being messed around with outside, and Glinda's head snapped up to meet her visitor. She had given up trying to unbind herself; the knots around her wrists and ankles were simply too intricate. Being a woman of fashion, she'd enough experience with knotting and material, but not tied up as a criminal.

Morrible stood in the doorway, grinning wickedly at the blonde, with her hefty body outlined in an assemblage of ugly colors. Four other men flooded the room around Glinda, all with their jaws set and obviously instructed not to speak.

"Good morning, my dear child!" boomed the overly done woman, dancing in the room as though she were a ballerina. A Hippopotamus ballerina. Or hippopotamus. It would be an insult to the Hippo. "Today is the day we leave this tired old place. We shall smell that fresh air! Now, don't you feel special?"

"Morning, huh?" Glinda scoffed, glaring up at the old woman with an expression of contempt. "In a room with all those damn locks, why wouldn't I feel especially hailed?"

"Knew you'd come around," Morrible growled, any false pleasantries crumbling. The old woman jabbed her meaty thumb in a direction of one of the men, who dug into his pocket to reveal a rather dangerous looking switchblade. Glinda felt her muscles tense up. She winced as the man drew near with the blade raised high, but fel herself visibly relax when he hacked away at the ropes, and not her face.

Another two men seized her arms the moment she was freed, hoisting her to her feet as the armed man slashed the ropes that bound her ankles. After sitting in an uncomfortable position for so long, the sudden weight shift disoriented the blonde, her sight speckled with black dots as blood drained back to deprived limbs.

She didn't struggle as they hauled her from the room and down a narrow, musty hallway, because as soon as they were outside, the blonde was hit by the grey daylight. Glinda inhaled the fresh forest air into her lungs, glad for the temporary freedom.

She was being forced into a wagon, separated into two compartments by a flimsy wire. She was shut in before getting a chance at further observation, and her brows creased angrily.

"Come now, don't look so rough," Morrible barked from outside the wagon. "You'll have a…cellmate soon, so enjoy your privacy while it still belongs to you."

There were noticeable gaps between the pieces of wood nailed together that made the wagon, so Glinda pressed her face against it to watch Morrible saunter back into the dreary house. The men behind her were casually talking about Weasley, and something else they referred to as "the surprise". Once they were gone, Glinda drew away from the wagon wall to hug her knees, hoping whatever they had in store for her wasn't what she thought it was.

* * *

"It's lovely weather we're having. If only you could see it," Ron greeted, stepping into Elphaba's prison. He gripped his wand tightly, concealing the smile that threatened to spread on his face. Madame Morrible had finally given him the word to go ahead with their plan of exposure, which meant that he wouldn't have to restrain himself from anything in time.

"It would be much lovelier if _you_ weren't around to spoil my view," Elphaba snarled back, pulling at her shackles with irritation. There was no advantage in trying to escape while chained to a wall, but until someone came to let her down, she was trying to form a plan.

Ron lazily whipped his wand in her direction, and Elphaba's restraints suddenly loosened on her limbs, dropping her to the ground. The redhead watched in amusement as she tried to get used to the pins and needles that were likely to surge through her body. "There we go," he grinned. "You're down where you belong."

Elphaba cast him a dark look, forcing herself to be used to the rushing blood in her limbs. She heaved her weight upwards to stand at her full height. She could do no more, though, for once she was on her feet, Ron swept forward and pressed his wand to her temple. The green witch froze, staring coldly at her captor.

"I have controlled myself thus far," Ron told her warningly. "My patience will, very soon, run dry. So," he concluded, as though it were a simple summarization, "if you are to be presented to the Ozians in one piece, you'll go _quietly_."

"Presented to the…" Elphaba's eyes widened in horror, meeting Ron's amused expression. "What? How…what…"

"You didn't think I went through all this trouble for nothing, Thropp?" Ron leered, suddenly shoving her towards the door. "As a concerned visitor, I should think the Ozians would want to know of a fugitive in their midst, and how their leader is _hiding_ her."

"Don't you dare even _think _of bringing Glinda into this with that puny little brain," Elphaba hissed, her eyes dark with anger, but Ron prodded her roughly with his wand.

"You're treading a thin line," Ron threatened calmly. "We're going outside, Thropp. Men are surrounding the area; they follow my orders and my orders only. If you try to run, they will kill you."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Elphaba muttered sarcastically, but a desperate thought formed in her head. If she tried to run, and she happened to be killed, Glinda's hiding her could not be completely proved. However, the thought turned her stomach, and she waited for Ron to open the door.

"I enjoy dreams," said the Death Eater. "In fact, I had a rather nice one the other night. Not a very kind setting, the Riddle House, but I had you all to myself, Thropp. Your screams…the most wonderful thing I've ever heard. Once you and I are in front of the Ozians, I promise we'll have a helluva time."

Elphaba stopped to observe the redheaded man closely. The tone he took on when speaking of her pain sent shivers down her back. His voice had dropped almost to a whisper, and it was husky, as though he were hungry for something. He certainly wasn't the foolish thing she had met when she first came to Hogwarts; it was more like someone else had inhabited his skin.

"You know," Elphaba began slowly, pointedly avoiding Ron's eyes. "Even if you do _kill me_, the others will find you, load you up, and throw you in Azkaban."

"Hah!" Ron laughed loudly in the green witch's face. "You're delusional, Thropp. Even if they do find me, which isn't likely to happen, they could never catch me. Morrible is in possession of the Grimmerie now, and she can read it, which means she can easily defeat them."

By this time, they had reached the outside of the hideout. Elphaba didn't want to give Ron the satisfaction of seeing her breathing in air like she hadn't been outside for days (which she probably hadn't). Rather, she glared at him hatefully as he shuffled her towards the rickety wagon near the entrance.

"In you get," directed Ron, shoving her towards the opening of one compartment, the other sealed shut. "Go, Thropp."

"Elphaba?" Glinda's voice called suddenly, the green witch recognizing the fear in her tone. The blonde was wide-eyed and fumbling, trying to get a clearer view from inside her compartment. "Elphie, are you all right?" She was clutching the wires forlornly; Ron had never seen the blonde this frantic since her capture.

Elphaba looked at her girlfriend through the wagon, disturbed at the sight, then whirled around to Ron. Her eyes were roaring, the dreary sunlight casting a glare from her irises, making them gleam almost crimson. "You bastard! What did you do to her?" she demanded, her voice low and growling, not manic as the Death Eater's became at the notion of torture, but as though she would explode at any moment.

"Now, Fae, that language is uncalled for." Ron smiled, satisfied for having set the green witch off. "Hasn't anyone taught you to show respect for your betters?"

"Well, when I see my betters, I'll be sure to show them some respect," smirked the green witch.

"I've been held back for long enough," Ron grinned, his fingers itching, "and it seems you need another lesson in manners. It'll be doubly as exciting with your girlfriend here to see it." The Death Eater lifted his wand in an instant and practically sang the curse. "_Crucio_!"

She had no time to dodge it. Something was flooding Elphaba that was never meant to be inside of her. The pain weakened her knees so that she slipped soundlessly to the ground. It felt as though her nerves were replaced by white-hot wires, all searing into her delicate innards and warming her blood. She let a scream escape her lips, her throat rasping and cracking from the sheer, blinding pain.

Glinda could only watch in terror, gripping the wires until her knuckles turned white. "_Stop it_!" she screamed at Ron, who was holding in a laugh as his comrades watched in amazement. "Stop it, please!"

The Death Eater's gaze met Glinda's for a moment, before returning to his prize. "Beg me," he said, as though it were a question. He flicked his wand so that Elphaba would feel more pain. She was bent over on the ground, clutching her front and twitching. "Beg me and I'll stop."

The air was tense and magnetic, like all the earthly energy in the area was being used on Elphaba, gravitating towards her aching form. The onlookers, Morrible's men, did not seem distressed or disgusted, but highly impressed at Ron's handy work. They were far from remorse for the Wicked Witch of the West, who undoubtedly deserved such agony.

"Please," Glinda shrilled, tears springing to her eyes. "I-I'm begging you. Let her go, just stop it. _Stop_!"

How could Elphaba have survived two weeks of the Riddle House, with interrogations that seemed much more like torture sessions and ruthless cultists with a bloodthirst like Weasley? The sounds that haunted Glinda from Elphaba's staged death at Kiamo Ko were nothing compared to the strangled cries escaping her lover now, who was digging her nails into the weak dirt on the ground to keep from falling over.

Ron's gaze found the blonde again, smirking. "As Your Goodness wishes." He mocked a bow, lifting his wand away from Elphaba's direction. The green witch gave a freed gasp, her dark hair sheltering the view of her face as she hunched over, panting and shuddering.

"It's good to see I'm not yet out of the practice," Ron boasted, tapping Elphaba in the side lightly as she found her breath again. "I can assure you that we're far from finished, Thropp."

He willed the woman into the wagon, gripping her bicep and hauling her upwards before shoving her into the empty compartment with an impassive face. He scratched the back of his scalp nonchalantly, mussing reddish hair as he looked over the locks that held Elphaba in. There was a new bounce of air in between Ron's steps when he walked away, whistling.

Glinda kept a hand to her mouth, shifting her weight so that she could be nearer to Elphaba. She tried to get as close as she could through the wiring. "Elphie," she began, hesitating so that she could close her eyes and will the trembling from her voice. "Elphie, are you alright?"

"Yes," Elphaba gasped, sitting upright to face the blonde through the wiring and beginning to regain her composure. "I really should be used to it by now, though," she muttered, handing out a wry smile.

"That's not funny," Glinda snapped, but she sighed with relief. If Elphaba could still crack her dry, sarcastic remarks, then they would be okay. The blonde reached her hand through the wire, an easy task considering her small person, to grasp Elphaba's hand. The green girl squeezed Glinda's hand lightly and brought her lips to the rosy flesh.

"I'll be fine," she reassured. "The bigger story right now is you- how did you get here? I swear, if they did-"

"This might take a while," Glinda sighed, leaning her head against the wiring.

"I think we have time," Elphaba mumbled, sitting patiently for the blonde to lift her head. "Tell me."

* * *

Any signs indicating where Elphaba could have been taken were either covered up or simply nonexistent. It was the only thing talked about as Fiyero, Harry, Hermione and Snape made their way back in the Emerald City, any other conversation most likely to pertain to why Elphaba left the group in the first place. Mighty, sparkling emerald towers welcomed their entrance, the tall gate being their only obstacle.

"If Ron doesn't expose Fae here," Hermione asked cautiously, "then how else are we going to find her location? I mean, this place is large, and we're at a disadvantage."

"We can stay over there until we hear anything suspicious," Harry suggested, pointing to a street level sign that spelt in elaborate font, _The Emerald Hotel_. "If Fae is a fugitive here, and Ron chooses to expose her someplace else, it'll undoubtedly be in the paper."

"By the time it reaches the newspapers, it'll be too late!" burst Fiyero, looking around at the familiar, uneventful streets. "They don't just hold criminals like Elphaba in prison with a reputation like hers. If Weasley doesn't get her first, the citizens will. We have to act _now_!"

"Take a breath, Tiggular. You're only wasting it," Snape drawled, looking at the Winkie with a mix of a scowl and boredom. "You Griffindors are all the same. We have nothing to go on, not a spec of a lead to assist us. Would you like to aimlessly wander through Oz until we find Fae? Because you can do that, and by the time you find her, she'll probably be dead. No, I'm going to stay…right here."

Fiyero glared at the Potions Master, seeing his logic, but not willing to give in so easily. If they went with Snape's plan, they wouldn't be productively worrying and pacing, as the prince wanted to be.

Hermione's hand met Fiyero's shoulder, and the bushy haired witch stepped out from behind him like a voice of reason. "I'm sorry, Fiyero, but Snape's right. We can't act rashly if we expect to find Fae- her life hangs in balance. If we just stomp around everything, and make one wrong move… I will say from my experience that Ron will not hesitate to kill her."

Fiyero flexed his jaw to keep from speaking. It was otherwise silent with agreement. The day wasn't very bright, but the weather had a distracting humidity, passers by either sweating, or scratching, or disrobing in one way or another. Harry decided to take charge of the situation, as the other three were standing in the middle of the dusty street, collecting their own perspiration.

"Here's what we'll do," the dark haired wizard began. "Until we find anything about Fae, we'll stay at the hotel. Snape, you may go out and scavenge any sort of lead, because we all know how triumphant you were about it _last time_," he added hotly. "Then, that is when we'll act."

After a few more minutes of scuffling, the three entered the hotel, checking in under their false monikers, as Rifoye, Herms, Evan, and Salazar, respectively. Hermione reminded that they couldn't afford three rooms, especially when they didn't know what extra wealth would aid them with, so they paid for two separate rooms.

The bushy haired witch also declared, loudly, in case anyone in the hotel's lobby was wondering, that since Rifoye was her husband, they would share a room. She immediately dragged a dumbfounded Fiyero off to their quarters, not willing to witness Snape and Harry brawl about their room.

The bushy haired witch practically bounced into her room, shutting the door, before Snape and Harry spoke.

"If you think-"

"I refuse-" Snape growled, his voice blending with Harry's. The Boy-Who-Lived sighed, looking dejectedly at the closed door adjacent to Fiyero and Hermione's, then heaved it open.

"Fine," he said slyly, watching Snape's expression change into that of suspicion. "But I call the bed."

"You get the bed?" Snape repeated, booming as he entered the room. "I'm the one who'll be out in the city all day, looking out for Fae. And besides, I am older: I have seniority, Potter."

"If that's the case, then I'll call for a diaper disposal," Harry gritted. With a childish flourish, he leapt over to the bed, dropping his backpack down and spreading out his body over the neat, albeit, worn covers. "Deal with it."

Snape advanced towards the bed menacingly, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the other wizard. "Potter," he addressed warningly. "One… two…"

"You wouldn't dare," Harry argued, trying to think of a good excuse for Snape not to hex him. "You know Hermione would find out, and then she'll kill you."

"You think I'm scared of Granger?" sneered the Potions Master, but he pocketed his wand anyhow. "When I was a source for her knowledge," he grumbled, settling for fixing a distracting glare at Harry, who groaned. Fae had better appreciate this.

* * *

Snape settled for the same open-air market he, Harry, and Hermione visited before. They'd all split up to see if they could come back to the Emerald Hotel with sufficient enough information to collect a lead, but for a place stuffed with so many cherries, apples and the like, his efforts had so far been fruitless. The humid weather was a slight distraction, but the Potions Master did his best to blend in with the citizens.

What Snape enjoyed so far about these new people was their inability to conceal that they were sharing something secret. Several Ozians were huddled together, their voices low and their eyes bold, darting around in case anyone was watching. Under the pretence of inspecting a potential purchase, the Potions Master slunk nearer to the group. He'd trained his ears to focus on their voices, knowing that their shifty stances were definitely enough proof for suspicion.

"-And he's coming tomorrow," concluded one man, who was standing in the center of the tiny band.

"But 'big news' doesn't quite convince me," another man argued.

"Yeah, when was the last time we had any 'big news'?" a third man, short to the point that Snape suspected him native to Munchkinland, joined in.

"Not including Southstairs, not since the Wicked Witch, I'd wager," the first man answered honestly, picking up an apple from the cart beside them, and juggling it nervously between his hands.

"We've got Lady Glinda to thank for that," one of the other men said, "and Dorothy. But if he's a newcomer, he's bound to bring something that'll stir things up. Perhaps he isn't lying, and he just wants to keep us in the dark, to make himself look more spectacular. Where's this meeting place again?"

In his mind, Snape registered that this could be a good enough lead to find Elphaba, but other crowds were muffling the groups' voices out again. He strained his ears to hear, mostly failing to recognize what the group was saying.

"The center city square," replied the first Ozian, and the rest of them leaned in simultaneously. "He's going to arrive tomorrow, it should be-" their conversation was blocked out by a passing family, and they retreated from the fruit stand to purchase their food. Snape remained collected, waiting for the men to be finished. Everything he'd heard of the proposal so far pointed to Weasley, especially his discretion about the main operation.

He waited until the men dispersed from one another, then approached the man who seemed to know most about the operation. "Hey, you over there!" called Snape, and the man paused, apple half raised to his mouth. "I have a question for you."

"Who are you?" demanded the Ozian, lowering the apple and fixing Snape with a leery glare.

"Never mind that." Snape waved his hand and imitated the stance and mannerism of the people he had been watching all afternoon. "Have you heard anything about the foreigner coming into the City tomorrow?"

"Er, yes," the Ozian replied fluidly, looking Snape up and down doubtfully. "He has news for us. In the city square tomorrow at twelve sharp."

Snape nodded his thanks before turning around to find the others, figuring that this was more than just adequate news. This was proof that Weasley and Fae would be in the City the following day. They had to be prepared.

**Coming up: Peace before the explosion.**

**I have been half drafted to write a Cholive fic. So that should be fun. I need to branch out from Wicked. And I write/read way more slash than is healthy anyway.**

**-Wolfie**


	16. Run and Tell That

**The title from chapter fifteen was from The Lion King. Congrats to: TryDefyingGravity, Bella516, Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Yank2324, Courtney Dax, Elphabean, and melissa Ivory.**

**Slightly shorter chapter this time…but the one after this will be back to normal.**

**Thanks to both Cardboard and Lexi, who have helped me get re-inspired for WotW. If you didn't know, I've finished chapter 24 already, but I've been on hiatus ever since. I should start writing again this weekend.**

**Chapter 16: Run and Tell That**

"Elphie, you're still shaking," Glinda said, feeling the hand beneath hers quiver.

"It's fine. I'm fine," the green witch repeated for the umpteenth time, tired of Glinda constantly stopping the retelling of her capture to fuss over her. "Eventually, I'll be fine. It just takes a while."

"Well, that should never happen to you again." The blonde confidently shifted the weight on her knees. "We need to plan how to get out of here. Where are they talking us, exactly? Do you know?"

"One of Weasley's many foibles is that he has a huge mouth," Elphaba smirked. "They're going to bring us to the Emerald City. They want to-"

"Expose us?" Glinda inhaled sharply, then let a sigh pass her lips as Elphaba nodded. "I knew that," she commented slowly, "I just…this is terrible."

"I don't want you to lose your credibility here," Elphaba said, gently thumbing the hand that held hers, their only physical contact in a long time. Being chained to a wall with nothing to do had left her a great deal of time for thought, and so she had devised several ways to corrupt Morrible and Weasley's plans. "Mine certainly does not matter, and Fiyero, Snape, Harry and Hermione are out there looking. I should _hope_," she added, somewhat dejectedly, pushing aside Glinda's questioning expression, "so I'm not the center of concern. You are."

"You had something in mind?" the blonde asked.

"I know you'll object, but hear me out," Elphaba began tentatively. "They'll want you to admit being…with me. They'll want you to confess to all of Emerald City that we're in love."

"Better late than never," chuckled the blonde, but Elphaba shushed her.

"You have to lie."

"No, Elphie, all I do is lie. I can't lie anymore." Glinda bounced on her knees, as a stubborn child would. It upset her wrist through the wire, but she ignored the uncomfortable sensation. "There's no way I could disavow you anymore, either."

"You won't be disavowing me if you're saving our lives," Elphaba argued passionately. "Too much work has been put into your position. You deserve your job more than anyone, principally more than Morrible. She's out to ruin you."

"Lying all the time is ruining me," Glinda persisted. "People know about us in England, but here…well, the very idea is kept behind closed doors. They talk about me already, Elphie."

"As they would any politician, but this is different." Elphaba spoke carefully, not wanting to explode at her girlfriend, especially in such a delicate situation.

"I won't do it," Glinda announced, her tone steely and certain.

"Glinda, do you think we're in a position to choose?" Elphaba rasped, breathing a chuckle that sounded more like the beginnings of a sob. "We've been locked up, we're about to be thrown into a mob…Merlin, I can hardly even touch you…"

At the green witch's words, Glinda squeezed her other hand through the wiring to envelope the same digits she was holding with her other hand, the impulse being that she would draw Elphaba's arm to her chest. Elphaba bore her teeth into a smile, her white teeth against her green lips and her eyes sparkling with adoration.

"You understand the seriousness," she said. "And Glinda, I know you love me. To me, that's enough. It's even more if you'll tell everyone otherwise. It gives us a fighting chance, alright?"

"Okay," Glinda finally agreed in a little voice, peering closely at the woman on the other side of the wiring. From the curse Ron had shed on her, Elphaba wasn't exactly haggard, but still tired, defeated, even, if it hadn't been for a new, shining determination in her eyes. Shining, also, was a band entrapping her slender neck, metallic in material and color, bearing great resemblance to a dog collar. "Um, Elphaba," she began. "What's around your neck?"

"In case I stray from my masters," Elphaba explained, so earnestly that Glinda almost believed her. The green witch shook her head. "I was going to suggest that I turn into my animagus form and claw out of here, or even shock back the audience Morrible wants to attract, but this lovely little piece is preventing me from doing so." She jerked her free hand towards the collar. "Plus, I…I don't have my wand."

"You _what_?" Glinda restrained herself from shrieking, then settled. "Ron would have taken it from you anyway, but, you never forget your wand."

"You see, Glinda, it's like this," Elphaba began, licking her dry lips to buy time. "I was alone because I needed time to think. I told them. That is, Snape, Harry and Hermione. About the Wicked Witch of the West. It...didn't go over so well."

Something in Glinda's chest gave a painful tug, for she knew how much the wizards meant to Elphaba. The fact that they'd abandoned her for a petty set-up would indubitably break the green witch's heart." "Do you think they'll come looking?" she asked gingerly.

"They agreed to help you when they first came here," Elphaba said tiredly. "So they would, for you, at least. I hope Fiyero got around to talking with them, because if they went home, then he would only have the Animals' help. But Hermione would support Fiyero, and Harry would support her, and I'm hoping Snape wouldn't want to go back alone."

"Take a breath, Elphie. It's all right," soothed the blonde, stroking the emerald hand in hers. Elphaba's rambling grew almost frantic, but she needn't explain her concern. "They'll come around. So you can't transform at all?"

"No. Nor can I use wand magic-"

"But you've memorized some spells from the Grimmerie?" asked the blonde hopefully.

"I have, but it's not the same," Elphaba griped, tugging free from Glinda's grip to rearrange herself. Once she was satisfied with her position, she took the blonde's hands again, cradling them to her chest like an infant. The effects of the curse were more than worn, but the green witch's insides still trembled, and each of her organs felt numbing and individual. She felt nauseous, and so any part of Glinda was comforting.

"Just because you've become dependant on wand magic doesn't mean you can't use something you remember from the Grimmerie to get out of here. And even if there's nothing we can do about this dumb wagon, I'm sure there'll be something when we're in front of an audience. I learnt a fair bit while you were away," Glinda suggested lightly. "We can do it together."

"I highly doubt casting spells with the Wicked Witch will sustain any goodness to your reputation," Elphaba said dryly. "And with all eyes on you, it couldn't be done quietly."

"There's nothing else we can do," persisted the blonde. "I mean, we obviously just can't sit through it."

"No, we can't, but we can't play into Morrible hands. Wouldn't she expect us to try and escape?"

"She'd expect us to try and escape _gracefully_," Glinda sighed.

"Then we won't. If I try to escape, and you keep the Ozians on your side, I'm sure you could convince them I'm only an apparition," mumbled Elphaba, unaware of the steady gaze Glinda had on her. The blonde ran her eyes over Elphaba's face, wishing there wasn't a cordon between them. She was patient until the green witch found herself being inspected.

"Why did you come here?" Glinda asked softly

There was a pained expression on Elphaba's face- one that suggested sadness, but not willing to admit regret. "Because I wanted to help you," Elphaba replied earnestly. "I didn't want anyone to hurt you…look where it's brought us."

"This isn't you fault, but it would have been a lot more helpful if you had stayed in England." The blonde's grip loosened on Elphaba's hand slightly.

"Are you saying you don't want me to be here?" Elphaba asked, both brows raised incredulously.

"What? No! I mean, your being here makes it easier for Ron," Glinda said, knowing Elphaba's tolerance was in short supply. The green witch let one eyebrow fall as she spoke.

"And it would be better for you if I wasn't here, you know, when he locks you in a cage like an animal?" Elphaba scoffed. "Because I know a fair bit about being locked in cages when one doesn't deserve it."

Glinda didn't know if Elphaba was referring to the Animals she had helped as the Wicked Witch, or the Riddle House, but there was a wounded look on her eyes, one which mingled with fire, so the blonde decided to drop the subject until later.

"Elphie, please, let's not fight," she bemoaned. "This is the last place we need to argue."

Elphaba sighed, using her free hand to rub her forehead. "You're right. Fine," she agreed, staring at the miserable wooden panels of the wagon.

"What are you thinking about?" Glinda asked after a few moments of silence, watching as the whites of Elphaba's eyes became clearer than her dark irises as she stared at the low, box-like ceiling.

"I'm thinking about how I could kiss you through the wire," replied Elphaba calmly. The past several minutes had acted more a nuisance than nullification to the unsettling feeling in her stomach.

"I tried to call you through the mirror," Glinda said quietly.

"I forgot it. I'm sorry," Elphaba snapped, still staring at the ceiling.

"You don't have to apologise. It's just…I missed you," the blonde answered, swinging her arm slightly, so that Elphaba's hand jolted against hers.

Elphaba tore her eyes away from the ceiling so forcefully that it would have caved in, to look at Glinda through the wire. She pressed her lips together in thought, then brought one of her girlfriend's palms up to connect with her chest, the steady beating underneath her flesh causing Glinda to breath faster.

"We'll be okay," Elphaba said, her voice sounding as though she didn't believe what she was saying, but Glinda exulted in the words anyhow. "I don't know how, but we'll be okay."

* * *

After several hours of being cooped up, both Elphaba and Glinda turned to look at the back of the wagon, which was being finally opened once again. They were met with Madame Morrible's pudgy, crinkled face, which was twisted into a sunny smile. Elphaba bore her teeth, wanting to claw away at the collar to transform as Morrible reached for the blonde as though she were a docile animal. Glinda shrunk back from the hand. 

Ron pulled out his wand and aimed it as Elphaba's head as though this were a boring task. The green witch practically growled at him. "Don't move, Thropp," he warned. "I won't hesitate to blow your head off."

Elphaba drew away from glaring at him to cast Glinda a beseeching look as she was taken from her compartment. The blonde looked dignified, like she was ready for execution, but not meeting the gaze of her captors. "I'll be fine, Elphaba. Don't provoke him," she said, not even bothering to look at the green witch.

"It's far too late for that," grinned Ron, digging around in his trouser pockets for something. "And she'll regret it later. Won't you, Thropp?" He revealed a small vial from his pocket, filled with a pearly white substance that was sloshing like gelatin with its thick viscosity. He handed it to the old woman. "I know it's not as good as Veriterisum, but it's reliable enough a truth potion. Glinda will spill _everything_."

Madame Morrible's beefy arms had a tight grip onto the small blonde, who squeaked as the old woman squeezed her to stand steadily. She flailed in some attempt to break free, but the old woman was tough to fight off, and she had a set jaw to keep Glinda in her grasp. Elphaba gritted her teeth, itching to move forward and help Glinda free, but Ron raised his eyebrows and moved closer with his wand.

"Leave her alone!" Elphaba yelled at Morrible, settling for using her voice instead of her body, as long as Ron was pointing weapons at her with wicked intent. "Dammit, just let her be. She's done nothing to you."

"But hasn't she?" Morrible kept Glinda's arms behind her back with one large forearm, using her free hand to uncork the potion. The cap sailed away through the air. "I wouldn't count six years in Southstairs as nothing."

With determination, she forced the blonde's head back. There was an audible noise of Glinda's neck cracking, undeniably from hours of being cooped up, causing Elphaba to cringe. Morrible pinched Glinda's nostrils shut and began waiting patiently for the blonde to run out of air with the vial at her lips.

"We will wait until you are unconscious is we have to, dearie. It's all a matter of if you wish to ruin your hair," Morrible shrilled. Glinda pursed her lips closed, twitching slightly at the lack of oxygen. er legs stumbled, and she finally opened her mouth, gasping for air. She had barely received enough oxygen into her lungs before Morrible spilled the potion into her mouth. Glinda felt the foreign juice make its way down her throat.

Elphaba thumped her fist on the boarding of the wagon, and Ron watched her with amusement, not once faltering with his wand to give Elphaba an opening to attack. Glinda sputtered and coughed, her eyes watering, and the green witch tensed up.

Markku came up with a group of other men. He was dressed in simple clothes with his hair pulled back, as though there was hard work to be done. In his hands, he brought rope, and he roughly brought Glinda's hands behind her back to tie. Then, he kneed her forcefully the rest of the way back to the wagon. It was over as quickly as it had occurred. The dreary day was closed out once again as Glinda was shoved back into her compartment of the wagon and all locks were reattached.

It took some effort for Glinda to sit upright, but she took a deep breath before facing the green witch. "Elphie-" she began, but Elphaba interrupted her.

"Glinda, listen to me," the green witch said urgently. "The Truth Potion they gave you…it can be fought. It's kind of like resisting the Imperious Curse. You're strong enough to do it, I know it."

The blonde peered at the other woman tiredly. "But-"

"No. Listen to me," Elphaba instructed forcefully. "The potion compels you to tell the truth, but it doesn't _make _you tell it. You have to fight it. When they ask about me, deny knowing me, hiding me, any of it. Tell them I cursed you if worse comes to worst."

"No, I-"

"Glinda," Elphaba sighed, rubbing her face with frustration. "We talked about this, and you agreed. I can't drag you down with me, and besides, we've better chances if only one of us is condemned."

Glinda bit her lip, nodding as she wriggled forward to be closer to the green witch. "I know, I know, but Elphie…I don't feel so well."

Elphaba slipped into a blank expression, blinking at Glinda's response. "Oh… um, just… lean against the wire, all right?"

Glinda nodded again, her blonde curls somehow unsullied during the hours of isolation and rough handling. She pressed herself against the wiring closest to Elphaba, breathing deeply. "I don't want to accept this as the only way. It'll be like betraying you."

"You're not betraying me," Elphaba reassured, reaching through the wire to press her fingers against Glinda's cheek. "I'm asking you to do this. How it is betrayal if I want you to do it?"

Glinda shrugged miserably, but before she could reply, the crunch of dirt under boots approached the wagon. Elphaba drew her hand away from the wiring and Glinda frantically tried to sit upright again in her restraints.

"It is that time which we have striven so hard to make reality," Morrible announced, her painted grin prim and practiced. "Wriggle here, Miss Upland. I have every belief that your...adoring public are _longing_ to see you."

**Coming up: Mob psychology is never a good thing…in Elphaba's case, at least.**

**Three-day weekend coming up…and I have so much writing to do! Another chapter for WotW, another chapter for the Cholive fic, and at least one angsty Wicked drabble.**

**Oh, and real homework. Can't forget that.**

**-Wolfie**


	17. Little Known Facts

**The title from chapter sixteen was from Hairspray. Congrats to Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Bella516, WickedBohemian, TryDefyingGravity, Dark-Angel-874, and Courtney Dax.**

**Ah…poor Elphaba. But…that's what I do, generally. **

**Chapter 17: Little Known Facts**

Glinda looked at Elphaba once more before scooting forward on her knees. She saw no means of escape now that they'd been driven so far. The green witch watched helplessly as her girlfriend was escorted away by Morrible, Ron, and two other men. The exit was blocked by Markku as soon as the others moved on, equipped with a particularly dangerous looking dagger that Elphaba knew he'd love to run through her.

Although the compartment was shut, she could still see Markku in front of her, staring in through the compartment. "Now it's our turn to wait, Thropp," he said, somehow nicely. Casually. "You and me both will have our turn soon enough. Yours will be less pleasant, I'm afraid."

Elphaba gave him a dismissive look, and the dark haired man turned away his gaze, still standing in front of the compartment. The green witch sat still, poising her ears in preparation of whatever she was about to hear. _Fiyero, where are you? _She asked silently. _Now would be a good time to appear_.

* * *

The first monumental newcomer to arrive in Oz had been the beloved Wizard, and the second was the heroine Dorothy, so it was no surprise that rumor spread quickly, and the majority of the Emerald City had gathered in the city square to witness the much promised event. As they gathered for any speech, the people were practically shoulder to shoulder. The crowds were buzzing with the exchange of speculation as to who this foreigner was and what he had brought along, all the while mopping sweat from their brows and keeping close to their wily children.

"There! There's someone!" shouted one Ozian, jumping up from the army of people to point in the direction of the redheaded Death Eater, who had trotted up to a platform and gazed over the crowds.

"My dear friends," addressed Ron, silencing the entire ocean of people. He had amplified his voice, so as not to sound awkward shouting with his accent. He glanced over to where Morrible was holding back Glinda warily before turning back. "I would like to thank you for taking time out of your day to gather here. My name is Ronald Weasley, and I only arrived to this wonderful land but a few weeks ago. I have found, in my time, that there is something to be discovered of your beloved leader, Lady Glinda." He turned to refer to where his comrade was waiting. "Madame Morrible, if you please."

The giant women grabbed a strong hold on Glinda, forcing them both forward onto the platform. This gave way to a sudden wall of noise, people yelling indecipherably in outrage, angered at the sight.

"That's Morrible! That's who's escaped from Southstairs!"

"What have you done with Lady Glinda?"

"They've taken Lady Glinda hostage!"

"People, people!" Ron waved his arms in an attempt to quiet the people whom wanted explanation, but they continued to rumble quietly with harsh whispers.

"I promise, everything will be explained in time," Morrible boomed, her practiced voice perfectly audible over the crowd, her exaggerated tones a cause of drama. "Of Mr. Weasley's origins and my _unjust_ imprisonment, yet, for now, it is our duty as your fellow friends to announce something Lady Glinda has kept under unfair concealification from her dear people. I am sure you will be as shocked and outraged as I, so please, brace yourselves and tend to your children."

Ron turned to Glinda, who looked up at him in a mixed expression of fear, adrenaline, and disgust. The way they were speaking was obviously planned and recited in advance. "After a few question, Miss Upland will reveal to you her darkest secrets, as I have already ensured her honesty," Morrible announced jovially.

By now, even the breathing from the crowds was quiet, and miles away, a chicken let out an awful squawk. "Get on with it!" someone shouted from the crowd. "We haven't got all day!" There was a rumble of agreement, and the beckoning silence appeared once more.

"Lady Glinda," Ron began, nodding and carrying himself with a proper manner that was obviously forced. "Tell us, who is this _woman _whom you are carrying a _secret love affair_ with?"

There was a murmur of disbelief and scandal from the crowds, and Glinda shot a scornful look at the redhead. A hissing voice in the blonde's head urged her to spill the name, "Elphaba Thropp", but she found that if she pressed her lips together, she could resist.

"Glinda?" pressed Ron, his voice low and growling for her making a fool out of him.

Glinda shook her head anxiously. "You'll get nothing out of me," she retorted.

"That's fine." Ron waved his hand, looking up at the audience for a moment before asking another question. "What do you know about the Wicked Witch of the West?"

There was another thunder from the crowd, some putting two and two together to figure what Ron was implying.

"_Nothing_!" Glinda cried, swallowing back what the potion wanted her to say.

"This is pointless!" griped a crowd member. "Just tell us about this 'secret affair', or take your hoax and leave!"

Ron snarled at the Ozian before turning to look off the platform again. "Markku!" he barked. "Bring out Thropp."

Glinda bit the inside of her cheek, feeling Morrible's sharp fingernails dig into the flesh of her dainty shoulder while trying to get free of the older woman's grasp. Markku was pressing a jagged dagger to Elphaba's throat as he shuffled her out, another man restraining her arms behind her back. The sun hit her face to clearly light her emerald colored flesh. This generated a genuine uproar of fear from the crowd. Many of the people gathered around the immediate platform wretched backwards.

There were questions shouted, fearful screams, and a woman actually fainted. Elphaba felt the impulse to smirk at the reaction, but settled for the drawn expression that had overtaken her face since Glinda was drug from the wagon.

The scene seemed surreal to Glinda, that Ron and Morrible were really going through with their scheme, and closed her eyes to hide the sudden onslaught of tears that threatened to fall. _I'm so sorry, Elphie_, she thought, the idea of not being able to resist the potion, and the crowd's reaction flooding her eyelids. _I'm so, so sorry_.

The mood of the crowd had shifted completely, from doubting Ron's sincerity, to anger at the truth of his implications, and the two captured woman.

"So!" Ron barked triumphantly. "The Wicked Witch of the West is alive! And who better to conceal her from you than your very own leader? Now, Glinda, is it true that you're in love with the Witch?"

Glinda hesitated, trying to steady her suddenly desperate breaths. Elphaba met her gaze briefly, shaking her head discreetly with wide eyes. The unwelcome voice in Glinda's head shrieked for her to say yes, to shout it out and finally admit it.

"I…I do not," Glinda finally said, her stomach sinking to her ankles despite her assertive tone. "I am Glinda the Good, and she is the Wicked Witch of the West. How could you assume such things?"

Elphaba's eyes were hard over the blade pressed against her green throat, willing pride to override the sadness that overtook her at Glinda's denial, even though she knew that it had been planned and was necessary. She glared at Ron as he strode over to her, his confidence returning to him at whatever he planned to do next.

"Alright," he mumbled, nodding at Markku, who was still restraining the green witch. "Your Goodness certainly would not mind if I entertained the public with the _torture _of the Wicked Witch, then?"

He pulled out his wand, pressing it lightly above Elphaba's breast, a place he had never aimed for before, nor had Elphaba experienced. She clenched her jaw, waiting, hoping Glinda would close out the scene and not submit to what Ron wanted. She stared into Ron's eyes, which were looking back into hers without expression. "Cru-"

"NO!" Glinda screamed, lurching forward in Morrible's grasp. The old woman's face grew into a grin as she kept the blonde in her arm, who was now jerking to get loose.

The sound of Elphaba's screaming earlier still rung her ears, promising to visit her dreams, and even worse, the state of her lover afterwards. She managed to wriggle out of Morrible grasp, kicking the old woman backwards, and threw herself in between the wand and Elphaba by pushing Ron aside.

"Well, well. Would that be a…change of heart, Your Goodness?" Ron raised his eyebrows dramatically as he regained his balance. He was now playing up to the crowd that made noises sounding like the roar of battle; Ron was in his element here. "Perhaps now you will tell us. Do you love the Wicked Witch of the West?"

There were only a few things registering in Glinda's head: Ron, the wand, what it would do to Elphaba. The potion reacted on her impulses; the words slipped out of her mouth before she could-

"Yes!" she screamed, her expression hardly contented. "Yes."

"And you admit to having an affair with _her _for almost a year now?" Ron's voice rose in volume to match that of the crowd's blathering.

"I do," Glinda whispered dejectedly, her eyelids squeezed closed to block out the image of the crowd. It could have been the amplification spell that Ron used for speaking, but her small voice carried throughout the square. "I love her."

Elphaba winced at the sounds the Ozians made next, the ocean of bodies erupting in a volcano of obscene words and shouts of disgust or doubt. They had spoken this way as witch hunters, but now it was not only herself in front of the prosecutioners. She sought out Glinda's gaze, wanting to speak with her desperately. _Forgive me_, thought the green witch, wanting to say it aloud. _I never meant for this to happen when I came_.

"The Witch has been alive now for over five years, and yet," Morrible's triumphant voice was almost as loud as the crowd, guttural and shrill all at once, "you did not have her _rightfully_ imprisoned, nor executed for her terrible, terrible crimes. Rather, you went and became her lover?" Morrible sighed theatrically. "What a shameful turn of events."

Glinda didn't know how to respond, even if she could control the potion. She looked helplessly over the crowd, to Elphaba, to Morrible's iniquitous grin. There were tears in her eyes that spilled down her cheeks from the sheer frustration of it, and she knew that the prospects of her ever taking a seat in the Emerald Palace as Oz's leader again were destroyed.

"It is true, isn't it?" Markku smirked, still standing behind the green witch, the question slightly genuine. The dagger in his hand was pressed against Elphaba's throat still, and the green witch contemplated elbowing him in the gut. The dark haired man looked to the crowd to speak.

"Let it be known," he shouted, "throughout the City, that your leader, Lady Glinda, has been aiding and carrying an affair with a dangerous fugitive of Oz. One of the most dangerous fugitives. It is obvious that she is no longer fit to run this land, nor even roam the streets a free woman; who knows what spells the Witch used to influence her? She should be executed."

The public in the square responded differently to the news, wailing with agreement, or still yelling is disbelief. The attention Glinda paid to the population as their leader was especially significant, and she'd enforced nothing but positive things, even if the Animal freedom was sketchy. There were shouts about how the Witch could have cursed Glinda into the entire thing, and counterattacks on how her clear acts were of an unforgivable nature.

"Don't worry so much." Ron looked at Glinda, who was still standing in front of Elphaba protectively. The green witch was uncertain whether or not it would be alright to place her hand on the blonde's shoulder. "It'll be fast, and maybe even painless, if you don't fight it. A nice flash of green light will be all it takes. Your freak of a girlfriend, on the other hand, will not be so lucky."

"Don't touch her!" Glinda roared, although it sounded more like a throaty cry for help. She didn't register the Ozians surrounding them, only the wand, and what it could do to Elphaba. "Don't you dare lay a hand on her, you foul monster!" She twirled around to look at Elphaba, wanting nothing more than her counsel. "Elphie…" she began, but found nothing more to say.

Elphaba shook her head, seeming completely resigned to her fate. She still held some hope that Fiyero and the others would understand what was going on through the crowds of people, and somehow remove Glinda from the square. "You're just making it worse for yourself, Glinda," she said, her jaw clenched. "Try to make sense of it. Don't worry about me anymore."

"No," Glinda hissed, taking another step towards the green witch. "I'm not leaving you to face Weasley by yourself. After what he did to you last time…"

One of Markku's men had stepped up to slip his arms through Glinda's from behind, pulling her back towards Morrible. Though she struggled, she was tiny compared to the men around her. "Elphie, no! Please!"

Elphaba put on a blank expression, turning away from Glinda for fear of breaking down in front of the hoards of Ozians. That was something Ron wanted her to do, her own proof of her and Glinda's relationship, and humiliation of her pride in front of all these people. That was a satisfaction she was unwilling to give the Death Eater. She pressed up against the dagger Markku held against her, looking up at him daringly, and he met her eyes with bravery.

Meanwhile, Glinda had been taken away from the platform, to an area just below it where there were no Ozians to mob her. Morrible covered her mouth, and though she tried to snap at the large fingers, Glinda found she would be suffocating herself instead. She watched helplessly as Ron milled up to Elphaba again, his wand a source of excitement to the Ozians, now that they knew it was a weapon worthy of Lady Glinda's fear.

The moment Markku let go and backed away, Elphaba was hit with the Cruciatus, the death grip Ron held onto his wand sending it directly to her center. She bit back a scream, falling to her knees and trying to make her brain function. There were lights in front of her eyes, and she let a strangled cry escape her lips.

The Ozians watched in fascination as the wooden object affected the Wicked Witch of the West in such a manner. They had already accepted sorcery and its many intricate methods from the rulers of Oz and their practices of sorcery. If Ron was able to perform this, then he had power of the likes of the Wizard. They cheered, their thunderous voices gathered together like a sports stadium as Elphaba writhed in pain, her breaths more like choking.

Ron didn't spare Glinda a glance this time when she screamed for him to stop, her voice drowned out in the crowd and muffled by Morrible's hand. This was a punishment the Ozians had never viewed before, and the Wicked obviously deserved the pain shown on the Witch's face.

It became hotter in the square, the voices and breath of the audience raising the temperature and their body heat and sweat smoldering the area. The way they applauded was a disturbing spin on spirit, even as Ron removed the curse and Elphaba struggled to get up, or, at least, get away from the redhead. _This must be what Hell is like_, she decided, the single thought running through her brain before Ron cursed her again.

He looked over the crowd with amusement, then threw the same curse at her again, flicking his wand with a smile. He watched as Elphaba stumbled back down. She was no longer restraining her scream. The crowd was taken aback, startled for a moment as she expressed the mangling of her insides with throaty, wet, agonizing cries of pain.

Minutes passed before Ron drew his wand away, the crowd watching as though it was a live theater show. They were almost excited that the execution of their most dreaded fugitive would be public. The green witch panted for air, clawing at her chest on the ground. Ron strolled around her casually.

"Had enough, Thropp?" he taunted. "I assure you, we're far from finished. There's a long way to go with you and I, but not to worry, it won't bore you. I like to vary my curses."

"It doesn't seem like it," Elphaba gasped, wincing at the stinging that tore through her lungs. "Weasley, you're pathetic. When have you used anything more than that one curse? You keep promising things, but nothing ever comes of it."

Ron's eyebrows connected at the center of his eyes, and he pointed his wand in her face again, bending slightly to sneer at the green witch. "Don't I? _Cutious_!"

A deep gash slashed through the side of Elphaba's face, and Ron smirked, the second degree of the curse escaping him. Light from the wand hurled Elphaba's body backwards, and she was too weak to resist. She flew off the stage and landed at the feet of the Ozians, who gasped and reeled backwards.

They pushed at each other, threatening pandemonium. The actual presence of the Wicked Witch lying at their feet created the possibility that she would jump up and curse them.

A man, possibly a farmer, with little hair that was made up for in his giant beard, peered down at Elphaba's broken body. "You cowards!" he yelled at his fellow people. "What are we scared for? She can't do anything; her hands are tied, and quite literally!"

The man laughed, landing a vicious kick at Elphaba's stomach. The green witch groaned at the contact, rolling over to cough up blood. The man's courage was a cue for others to come closer and prod the woman, who was evidentially not going to defend herself. They began to attack her as well, throwing kicks and punches. The green witch disappeared into a myriad of people.

Some minutes later, although it felt like an eternity to Glinda, Elphaba was back in view and riddled in bruises. Glinda fought back bile that rose in her throat at the sight, moving her head away from Morrible's hand. Even the old woman was curious to see what had become of Elphaba.

The Witch was clutching her front, arms covered in dark green and purple bruises. Blood ran from her nose and mouth, and one eye was swollen shut from impact. She coughed, a wad of crimson sliding down the corner of her face and bleeding into the gash Ron inflicted earlier. There was a fresh layer of dusty dirt on her body from the Ozians moving to pain her, venting their frustrations on her from the fright she'd caused years ago.

Elphaba twitched, moaning, trying to breathe through her nostrils. If the cheekbones on one side of her face were not shattered, then it was just badly beaten, and she didn't wish to look upon herself in that moment. She didn't feel weak, she felt pitiable.

A roar burst through the crowd, parting the people immediately. It was a loud, livid feline shout, following by growling and snarls. Citizens grabbed their children by the collars and hoisted them into their arms, wailing in fear. Perhaps this was someone come to condemn them?

"It's the Cowardly Lion!" people suddenly whispered harshly to one another, ear to ear as though they were playing a game. "He's come out from hiding at last! He'll pass right judgment on the Wicked Witch!"

**Coming up: Fiyero, Hermione, Harry, and Snape's plan.**

**I have just about no homework this weekend. –is happy-**

**-Wolfie**


	18. Schadenfreude

**The title from chapter seventeen was from You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown. Congrats to Dee Zeno, Raiko Toho, WickedBohemian, Anne Flint, 0xRENTxOZxHeadx0, melissa Ivory, Courtney Dax, and Yank2324. **

**You know the avatar I'm using right now? I made it. I'm quite proud of myself. I'm more of a writer. Not a graphics artist. Well, there's always a first time for everything.**

**Chapter 18: Schadenfreude**

One hour before:

"Hurry up!" urged Fiyero, swinging his arm madly. "We need to go now- there aren't any direct routes from here to the City's center." He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, terrible sensations upsetting his stomach as he gazed nervously around the hotel's measly lobby.

"Calm down, Tiggular. You might as well blow our cover," Snape ordered sternly, hardly moving his mouth as he spoke.

Fiyero opened his mouth to retort angrily, but Hermione spoke up and placed her hand comfortingly on the Winkie's broad shoulder.

"We all remember our parts, then?" she asked anxiously, glancing around the lobby herself, which was uncharacteristically deserted. The quiet was unsettling, and not even a lobbyist was around to direct from behind the counter.

"We know what to do, counting on the hundredth run-through of the plan." Snape rolled his eyes. "We've each our Portkeys and our assigned positions. Tiggular is to find Glinda and get her as far as possible, to our place of meeting, you will be returning Fae her wand, while Potter and I keep Weasley at bay. Simple enough."

"That's just it. It seems a little too simple," Fiyero muttered, herding the others towards the exit. "Nothing around here is ever that simple. Weasley will know we're here, and expect us to attack. We need to be prepared. We need to stay on guard. We need to-"

"Okay, Fiyero, shut it!" Harry yelled, catching the attention of several people outside, the sunny midday in the city both blinding and scorching. "Let's just get on with it; it's twelve already." He smiled apologetically and made sure the invisibility cloak was tucked safety under his arm as he helped the ex-prince navigate the back streets.

They hassled around the streets until the sounds of a crowd were audible, roaring and cheering and rumbling with speech. The four shared an annoyed look, then hurriedly turned the corner, stepping directly into the city square, which was alive with people. The platform at the head of the square was hastily set up, but did its job well, displaying Glinda and Elphaba in their captured states.

The sunlight cast a glare into the square, blatantly lighting Glinda, who looked about ready to burst into tears, while Elphaba looked straight ahead, as if prepared for sudden condemnation, a tall man pressed up against her with a blade to her throat. It seemed almost like a demented three ring circus, and the triumphant redheaded Death Eater seemed to want to conduct it like a freak show.

"I thought we were going to be here _early_!" growled Fiyero, whipping his head around to search for something. "They're already up there and it doesn't look good. What do we do now?"

"We _were_ going to be early," Snape interrupted, his face sour, wormy lips puckering into controlled anger. "Until you decided to review our plan several million times, thus delaying our arrival." He ignored the enraged look Fiyero fixed on him, and beckoned the rest of the group to huddle in. "This is what we change our plan to: cutting through the mob would be suicide, for both us and Fae. Notice Weasley's got an armed guard with her. I don't doubt he'd give the signal if he saw us."

"'The signal?'" Harry whispered, his expression of confusion.

"To slit her throat, you nitwit," the Potions Master barked, dusting off his robes before resuming his demeanor of calmness. "We're going through the back."

He nodded towards the edge of the crowd, indicating that they should sneak around the back of the ocean of people, all seeming greatly concerned with what was going on onstage. It didn't take a great deal of effort to stay inconspicuous, although Harry had to shout a few unintelligible words to convince a woman who seemed to be a man in a dress, until they were away from most of the crowd.

Behind the platform, just out of sight, was a rickety, worn out wagon with several padlocks on the doors. "That must have been where they kept Elphaba," Fiyero pointed, his dark expression mirrored by Hermione and Harry, who were the only ones paying attention.

Behind the wagon were two of Markku's men standing on guard and keeping watch for 'risky, unusual behavior' that Weasley described extensively to them. One man was wiry and prickly, while the other was bald and built. Both were carrying rifles and considerably bored of their uneventful positions.

The smaller one noticed Fiyero pointing in their direction, and nudged his comrade. "Hey," he grunted. "Ain't those the four loony's Weasley mentioned to watch out for?"

"Looks like it," the second one said, peering in the direction of Fiyero and his friends. "They're wearing them bathrobes. I expect we'll have to eliminate the threat now, won't we?" He glanced down at the sword at his feet, picking it up to wield another weapon.

They assembled themselves and stepped up to the four, taking special care to flash their weaponry in Fiyero, Snape, and Harry's faces. "You four have no business here," the smaller one warned, juggling the barrel of his gun from one hand to the other. "I _sugges_t you leave, before yeh _told_ to."

"I suggest you put your weapons down," Snape ordered, stepping forward and keeping his voice pacified. "Before we _force_ you." He was gripping his wand in the sleeve of his robe, already in dueling stance.

He bald man looked down at his companion, feigning fright, his facial features screwed in mock fear. "Ooh, I'm scared now!" he taunted. "Hold me, Retzlaff!" The shorter man gave a great guffaw, and the bald one's expression became serious and threatening in an instant. He took up his sword, brandishing it with pride, and moving his feet to charge at the Potions Master. "Let's see what you can do then, old man."

Snape made a noise with his mouth in a sign of irritation, rolling his eyes and holding up his wand. "Expeliarmous!" he yelled, flicking his wand at the men. Their weapons immediately escaped them, landing a few feet away, useless and broken in the dirt.

The bald man looked down into his empty palm where the hilt of his sword used to be, then peered up at Snape with a mix of fear and disbelief. "Get Weasley," he ordered to his comrade. "They have the same power as he does. G-go!"

Before he could be stopped, the shorter man took off in the direction of the platform, scampering away in fear of being victim to Snape's power.

"Dammit!" cursed Fiyero. "If Ron knows we're here…" he trailed, tugging on Hermione's sleeve. "Let's go. Before-" He stopped, narrowing his eyes at the sudden change in the crowd surrounding them.

Harry frowned, his eyes searching over the vast sea of people, as well. "There's something going on," he muttered. The people seemed to be forming a tighter semicircle around the platform, swarming one area in front of it, their yelling vicious and their movements sharp and violent. "They're mobbing again, and," the Boy-Who-Lived peered up at the platform, where Ron stood alone, looking indecisive, "…and Fae is…gone."

There was a cold clench in Fiyero's stomach as he understood Harry's words. He looked around frantically for something to help. "Harry, give me your invisibility cloak," he demanded, turning to the man in question and holding out his arm expectantly. Harry looked at him curiously, and Fiyero scoffed with impatience. He gripped the cloak in Harry's arm and pulled it away.

"Tiggular, for once, don't be stupid," barked Snape, stalking towards Fiyero, but the Winkie had already wrapped the cloak around himself and disappeared. The Potions Master received no reply. He pulled out his wand and twirled around in several directions, as though there would be a sign as to where Fiyero had wandered. "Potter, intervene and get Fae out of here, at any cost," he ordered, his tone hard as stone. "I will distract the crowd. And Granger, make sure Tiggular doesn't decide to do anything… stupid."

The Potions Master gripped his wand, concealing it in the folds of his robe, and turned to join the crowd by pushing through the bodies of people, who yelled vicious, obscene things. Snape eventually blended in with the crowd.

Hermione attempted to subdue her worried expression, looking at Harry. "Now what?" she squeaked. "We can't do anything in this crowd- we can't just blast them apart or something. They're innocent people."

"Innocent people?" Harry yelled suddenly, his anger drowned out in the crowd's noise. "They're sadistic, Hermione. Look what they're doing to Fae! And we're just standing here like a bunch of thick idiots!"

"They're misinformed, that's all," Hermione shot back, looking around nervously. "They think she's done something terrible…it's no use arguing. Now come on!" She shot her friend a raised eyebrow and left to ebb into the crowd.

There didn't seem to be any openings for Harry to take. Thoughts rapidly skipped through in his mind, and he was unsure of how to act. If he didn't do something soon, Harry reasoned that Elphaba would be kicked to death, judging by how one man was wildly throwing his leg back and forth at the front of the crowd, grunting with effort and yelling curses at the green witch.

The Boy-Who-Lived would admit, he wasn't what the majority of people would classify as buff or intimidating, physically. The only way he could get a shot at separating Elphaba from the crowd was to transform. So he did, whipping his wild mane of hair, indicating his dominant lion-type nature, and let out a earsplitting, brassy roar.

Several people responded by screams of fear. However, by leaping into the crowd, Harry successfully parted the crowd into two, which left Elphaba lying in the dirt, her face pointing downwards into the dirt.

He walked proudly past the people, anger bubbling within him once he received a better view of the damage done to the green witch. Fugitive or not, it was a cold-blooded, shameful thing to do to another human being, and their combined hate was spawned by nothing more than speculation. There were whispers around Harry, as he stomped forward with his mighty, bone breaking paws. It sounded like the people were saying "Cowardly Lion", but he didn't care for explanation at the moment.

At the people, he snapped his jaws, giant teeth gnashing, as a way of warning for them to stay back. The Ozians, from this action, realized that the Lion was about to eat the Witch. They began to cheer Harry on, simultaneously shielding the eyes of their children.

Elphaba merely turned her head away from him, figuring that the striking feline might as well be the Cowardly Lion, and she groaned into the dirt. It hurt to move; the rib that always made her wince was probably splintered by now. She would have chuckled if it didn't pain her so, finding it ironic that her life would be taken by an Animal, a race she'd dedicated her life and reputation to the aid of. Elphaba tensed at the feeling of the Lion's hot, rancid breath on her flesh.

Harry clamped down on the dusty material of Elphaba's collar, puling her up like a lifeless marionette, and slinging her over to sag on his back. There was some relief in the Boy-Who-Lived when he felt the green witch's fingers on one hand grab a clump of his fur, perhaps to brace herself, or perhaps in a weak attempt to cause pain. Harry looked up to the platform, only to meet Ron's gaze. He stared deeply at the redhead before realizing his mistake.

The redhead's face scrunched in confusion before an enraged look spread across his features. "That's Potter!" he howled, jabbing out his index finger to point at the retreating lion. "He's helping Thr- the Witch escape!" He hurriedly pulled his wand out to point at Harry, but jumped at the lingering snarl Harry shot at him.

People were curious now, as to whom the lion really was and what he planned to do with Elphaba. Harry felt cornered and optionless. He transformed back into a human, crouched so that Elphaba wouldn't roughly hit the ground, his own wand drawn and poised.

Neither wizard made a move. Suddenly, Ron was jerked violently, his head thumping forward, eyes crossed as he stumbled, inevitably sliding to the ground, unconscious. Fiyero was breathing hard as he unwrapped the invisibility cloak from his body, his face and neck scarlet as he glared at the unresponsive Death Eater. "That was for Elphaba," he said breathlessly, and proceeded to leap from the platform's edge and stage dive into the crowd.

The crowd's confusion was beginning to morph into panic, now that the odd occurrences were piling upon one another. Snape had stunned Markku from behind, giving way to an outburst of terror from the Ozians, as it was an indication of the Witch's followers suddenly gaining advantage over who they perceived as "the good guys".

The newcomer was powerful, but there were more on the Witch's side, who also appeared grimmer and darker than boyish Ron. The people scattered, trying to disperse from one ocean of bodies, and retreat back into their homes and stores. There was yelling and flailing, and one woman tripped, resulting in a domino effect.

Hermione avoided people who pointed and shouted about her, running past and forcefully bumping into her shoulders, looking around for a blonde head, being that Fiyero didn't seem in proper focus, nor mind, to accomplish the task himself.

She noticed the diminutive woman in the grasp of a giant, fish-like old lady. The bushy haired witch presumed this to be the infamous Madame Morrible, who seemed to be sucking Glinda into her extremities, her grip was so hard. Or her incredibly fat gut.

Figuring it would be much easier than fighting through the hysteric crowd, Hermione lifted her wand. "Um…Accio Glinda!" she called, deciding the effects wouldn't be so dangerous with a simple summoning spell.

Both women looked surprised at how Glinda slipped from Morrible's fingers, her heels digging into the dirt and creating an engraved trail as she dragged towards Hermione like an attracted magnet. She was unable to keep balance with her wrists tied behind her back, and she eventually bumped into Hermione, who stumbled backwards before landing on the ground.

"Hermione?" Glinda's eyebrows practically met her hairline as she scrambled to help the other woman to her feet.

"We'll explain later," Hermione said, herding the blonde away. "We need to get out of here."

"What about Elphaba?" demanded the blonde, shuffling forward as Hermione undid the ropes that bound her hands. Once she was free, she rubbed her wrists defensively. "We're not- I am not leaving until Elphaba's safe."

"Harry's got her," Hermione said briskly, not wanting to add 'so she's safe', remembering the image of the mobbing Ozians. She uncovered her Portkey and shoved it into Glinda's hands, feeling the energy around it as it activated, taking with it a very distressed looking blonde.

Madame Morrible wasn't ready to allow her plans to be completely destroyed. Her chest heaved with angry breaths since Glinda had escaped her clutches. She watched as the Ozians scattered and pointedly avoided her. She huffed, raising her meaty arms and swinging them in complex motions, muttering nonsense words under her breath, her eyes dark and piercing.

When she was finished, a hoard of clouds appeared, covering the sun and alleviating its scorching rays. The heavy sky immediately descended in the form of a torrential downpour. Winds picked up and thunder rumbled in the distance. A crack of lightning deafened the scattering crowd as they screamed and ducked for cover.

Morrible figured if her scheme didn't do exactly as she wanted to, she would hold onto the thread of hope that Elphaba really _was_ allergic to water, and evacuate the city square in an attempt to gather her wits.

"Harry!" Hermione called over the whistling winds. She ran over to the Boy-Who-Lived, giving him a curt nod and dropping to her knees to inspect Elphaba, who was in no better shape wet than covered in dirt. "Give me your Portkey. I'll take Fae. Find Snape and Fiyero and use theirs- just come back without trouble."

"We've got plenty of that already. Go!" Harry handed his Portkey to the bushy haired witch. He gripped his wand as he watched she and Elphaba fade away to their preordained meeting place.

The winds were whipping water onto his face and robes. Harry looked up to the sky to inspect the difference. The skyline had turned black in a single instant, obviously the work of a sorcerer, and the dark haired wizard kept looking upwards as the darkened clouds flew by.

Someone, in their rushed panic, bumped into the Boy-Who-Lived and ricocheted off his shoulder and landed on the ground, which had now been transformed into a super saturated muck. He looked down, detecting his intruder as a wide-eyed young woman. Sighing, he offered an arm for her to get up, which she accepted eagerly and ran off, never meeting Harry's eye.

Hermione had been right. These people were just misinformed citizens, unknowledgeable of who Elphaba really was or what she stood for, never mind knowing her and her values personally. Even if he had to, Harry didn't think he could hurt any of these people, regardless of their once sadistic behavior, being that these people were no different than the muggles back in England. They were innocent.

The storm was more of a hinder than a help to Morrible, and she cursed her own name, as her sight of the wizards began to haze through the torrents of rain and wind, the cloudy sky heavy and unyielding. This, Harry figured, gave him and the others a greater chance of undetectable escape.

Turing around, the dark haired wizard discovered Fiyero, his face plastered with bangs and grinning in manner that certainly was not joyous. He lifted his Portkey and vanished, leaving Harry to stomp through the mud to find Snape, who would now be his only means of getaway. He was the damsel in distress and Snape was his kni…only means of getaway.

There were water droplets attacking Harry's eyeballs, stinging his sight, so he threw his arm in the air, raising his wand up and squinting, wishing his eyelashes would preserve his eyes. A flurry of red sparks erupted from his wand. The citizens still seeking shelter drew away from Harry and the sudden burst of menacing light. They recognized him as a supporter of the Witch, equipped with dangerous, unpredictable weaponry.

"Get over here, Potter!" Snape's voice broke through the pandemonium. As Harry squinted in what he believed to be the correct direction, he saw Snape battling through the winds and pointing his wand at people to move them from his way.

"They're with the Witch!" a person called, flailing madly in the direction of the wizards. Harry didn't want to verify coordinated colors as uniformed officers. "The Witch has escaped! Stop them!"

There was rain dripping from the tip of Snape's crooked nose as he hastily stuck out his Portkey for Harry to clutch. The Boy-Who-Lived made a mad dash towards the Potions Master, gripping the thing the moment it activated and letting out a lung filled sigh of relief as he and Snape were sucked away from the frenzied crowds, twisting and winding in transportation. It promised to return them to where the others were waiting.

Hopefully where they would all be alive.

**Coming up: Making up and a disagreement. **

**I heart Thanksgiving weekend. I got so much written this weekend. (Not WotW. Other Pushing Daisies stuff.) **

**-Wolfie**


	19. There are Worse Things I Could Do

**The title from chapter eighteen was from Avenue Q. Congrats to Kalacyn, Anne Flint, WickedBohemian, magnam13, Raiko Toho, Courtney Dax, The-Good-Die-Alone, TryDefyingGravity, X-Kate-X, Yank2324, Dee Zeno, and Lusito.**

**I've posted my first Pushing Daisies fanfic here…Frienemies. Go check it out in my profile if you know the show and don't mind more femslash (Chuck/Olive). **

**Chapter 19: There Are Worse Things I Could Do**

The musty moisture that was in the air to greet Elphaba as she awoke was not unfamiliar. She couldn't place where she had experienced it before, but it instilled a very germy, uncomfortable sensation on her jade-green flesh. Unconsciously, she groaned as she stirred into consciousness.

"She's waking up," Elphaba heard someone say. She was unable to decipher who it was. Everything seemed to be in a swoop of time, and she could barely comprehend what was happening. Where was she and how did she get there?

"She is?" a voice came again, someone else's, and it sounded anxious. That amount of anxiety layering the squeaky voice could be no other's than Glinda's, although it seemed unlikely she would be there. Weren't they still under watch of Morrible?

The last thing the green witch could recall was a pair of steel-toed boots connecting with her stomach, which ignited a painful, almost electric sensation through her toes and creeping up her chest as she remembered. Elphaba took a breath of mossy air and forced her eyes open, only to be met by earnest, light blue irises, nose to nose with Glinda.

"Glinda," she breathed, feeling the blonde's hand touch hers. "Your nose."

"Yes, what about it, Elphie?" asked the blonde, her eyes full of a fear and devotion for whatever Elphaba willed next.

"It's crushing mine," the green witch managed feebly, trying to sit up as Glinda drew away, mumbling sheepishly. As Elphaba attempted to place her back against the cave wall, a shot of pain flew up her ribs. It was not fiery, as most injuries were, but as though her ribcage had gone fuzzy. A feeling of teeth grinding cotton and nausea overwhelmed the green witch.

"Lay back down, Fae," snapped Hermione, although not unkindly. Elphaba obeyed, but not fully: she slid halfway to the ground and waited for someone to elaborate. "Most of your wounds were superficial – scrapes, bruises, lesions – things I was able to heal by wand. You're lucky. The biggest injury was your ribs- the few you've broken before."

Elphaba nodded absently, reasoning that the unpleasant sensitivity and sudden splitting pain throbbing through her chest were from such a diagnosis. She didn't wish to compare this to the Riddle House, nor think on those dreaded events at all. Traditional fists, in comparison to magic, was just as painful, and the green witch longed for nothing more than a soft bed, but the circumstances remained the same, as did her piling responsibilities.

She was lying on a makeshift bed of sorts, made from extra robes and jackets brought along from Hogwarts. Elphaba was grateful for the sentiment and what it implied. Would this mean that her friends were willing to look past her reputation as the Wicked Witch and bear the hate her people felt towards her?

"Where are we?" asked Elphaba, patiently watching Glinda and Hermione for an answer.

"In a cave…somewhere…anywhere," Glinda muttered, fussing over Elphaba. She helped the green witch into a more comfortable position, clutching Elphaba's hand fiercely and cutting off the green witch's circulation. "I haven't a clue, really. Hermione brought us here once Harry parted the mob-"

"The mob!" exclaimed Elphaba, jerking forward with recognition, although her ribs protested painfully. She looked over to Glinda anxiously, an unnerving assumption entering her head. "Did Morrible – anyone – do anything to you? Anything at all? I swear, if that hag, or _anybody at all_-"

"No," soothed Glinda, scooting closer to the green witch and attempting to comfort her. "No, Elphie, I'm virtually unharmed. But…but you, I had to watch you…" she trailed off, her eyes watering in a pitiful manner as she attempted to wipe them away with the backs of her hand bitterly. "I'm so sorry, Elphie. All of this is my fault," she wailed. "If it wasn't for me, Morrible wouldn't have chosen to exploit us like that."

"It's not your fault, Glinda," Elphaba assured patiently, catching the blonde's hand in her own and holding it in her lap. "Weasley was looking for ways to humiliate me anyway; it would have happened for one reason or another. What I regret is that your reputation's been flattened. Er," she paused, "how long have I been unconscious?"

"About a day." Hermione spoke up, sitting on a rock not distantly from the pair, watching tiredly and waiting for a turn to speak. "My guess was exhaustion, or even dehydration, because, despite the blunt trauma to your head, you didn't seem to have been beaten there pretty badly. Or maybe someone required a little nap."

"Don't put it past me to be brain damaged," Elphaba smiled wryly. "Well then, how're you?"

"Me? Outstanding," sighed the bushy haired witch, sagging on her rock. She opened her mouth to continue speaking when Snape entered their sights with the sounds of his billowing robes and shoes connecting with the dirt ground solidly. Behind him was pleasant sunlight, probably lighting the yellow brick road soundly, but emitting a lovely, healthy sunshine. In both of his hands, Snape clutched a plain, wooden goblet containing something that exuded bubbling and steamy hissing.

"Fae," he acknowledged, in the sour way usually spoken, his hooked nose upturned and greasy hair swinging as she swaggered to a halt. "How do you feel?"

"Better than before," Elphaba replied cordially, still feeling hesitant to meet the Potions Master's stare. She was unsure of where they stood in their friendship.

He knelt down momentarily to hand Elphaba the goblet, and she self consciously took it and sat upright completely. Elphaba winced, but told herself to ignore the fuzzy feeling that caused a white haze over her vision for a flash. She peered down into the goblet, wrinkling her nose as the vinegary, organic stench the fluid held. "You come with extra piquant Firewhiskey?"

"It's a general healing medicine," Snape said, practically overlapping the green witch's attempt at humor. "Not as specific a potion, and therefore the strength of it suffers, but I have a limited supply of ingredients at my disposal."

"I'm grateful," Elphaba thanked, still looking miserably into what she would have to ingest, but she decided she would only do so after being hollered at. "But ingredients- from Hogwarts?"

"Potion ingredients are mainly found in boreal forests such as these," Snape explained lazily. "In their most natural state, and with limited time to search, there wasn't anything to concoct a Pepper-Up or Anti-Cruciatus, but it will help your ribs some, and your abrasions plenty."

Glinda shot the green witch a stern look, and Elphaba decided that prompting to drink the remedy wasn't required, because although Snape's expression was emotionally indifferent, it did look expectant. Elphaba put the cup to her mouth and let the liquid pass into her mouth. She was careful not to gag or sputter, even if it did burn a trail down her throat and tasted like spicy dirt.

"Th-" she wheezed, clearing her throat in hopes of being rid of the potion. "Thank you, Snape. I appreciate what you're doing for me." She handed the goblet back and let out a bang-blowing sigh, her face invaded with the damp air surrounding the carbon dioxide she let out. "Actually, I wanted to speak with you about-"

Dull footsteps thumped against the ground to announce Harry and Fiyero as they arrived into the cave, each with blank faces and without a greeting. Seeing Elphaba awake, with the subject they all wanted to speak about so sensitive, created an awkward atmosphere, where Harry, Hermione, and Snape wanted to say something, but it was obviously the green witch's turn to beseech.

"I wanted to speak with you about the business we were talking about before this entire mess. About the Wicked Witch of the West," Elphaba began boldly. She felt Glinda squeeze her hand in support, but she nimbly shook away from the blonde's grip. It wasn't that she didn't require comfort, but it made her feel less in control while talking in a situation such as this. She ignored the blonde's hurt expression and kept herself cold and reserved.

"Glinda!" Fiyero called from closer to the cave mouth. "Come help me collect food, alright?" He fixed the blonde with an expression that translated his words into something like, _"Let them speak alone"_, eyebrows heightened and jaw set.

Glinda inhaled sharply and inspected the scene skeptically by turning her attention to each of the three wizards, and then Elphaba. The green witch nodded slightly, since it seemed the blonde was looking for either approval or a reason not to go.

"You worry for me enough." Elphaba smiled briefly, but Glinda seemed unfazed. She stood anyway, pointedly looking at each wizard before joining Fiyero and leaving the cave, where they probably wouldn't scavenge for food at all.

"Look, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you earlier," Elphaba began, her voice hard, but her eyes darting around the three others uneasily. "You had a right to know; I understand that now, but before…well, I guess I was apprehensive as to how you would react."

"Well, obviously you don't know us too well," Hermione drawled, looking mean with her eyebrows furrowed into a glare. "If you thought we would abandon you because people in this country are ignorant to your cause, then you were wrong. _Very _wrong."

Elphaba bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, not knowing how to form the apology otherwise. Hermione's chastisement reminded the green witch of her father somewhat, where she stressed her words and pronounced them in a hiss.

"Fae, we understand," Harry announced, more careful than his predecessor. He advanced towards the green witch with kind eyes. "I've told you a thousand time about my godfather, so I'm sure you know he was falsely accused, and that I have experience in the matter. Just…don't run off next time." He grinned. "You're hard to follow on a big, bad adventure."

Elphaba let her lips form into a smile, being the first genuine grin since she had awoken in the cave. She surmised that the moisture originated from a dripping noise somewhere deeper in the rock, but she ignored it as the Boy-Who-Lived flashed her a childish thumbs up.

Hermione nudged her former professor roughly, who stumbled and gave her a cold, withering glare. "Watch your step in these caves," Snape recommended, snarling as he spoke. The bushy haired witch wanted him to speak, but he turned away from her before she found the opening to propose it.

"I will not misplace my trust and friendship in you for silly, folly rumors," he said calmly, glaring at the green witch despite his words. "That, of me, would be quite hypocritical, pertaining to a certain trial not long ago. Perhaps you recall it?"

"Thank you," Elphaba said tiredly, holding her forehead in the palm of her hand for a moment. "I was worried that…well, just…thank you for understanding."

All the speaking was aching her jaw, and her cheekbones already stung as she remembered the various people who'd fixed her with a few nasty punches and upper cuts. Her arms were dotted with bruises, and the green witch hoped the hideously tasting potion would take effect and help her heal, for fear that she would still be impaired when it came time to take action against Morrible and Weasley.

For now, though, it seemed that she had her friends back, who had situated themselves in seats (although Snape insisted on standing) as they conversed with inappropriateness and shrewdness only associated and acceptable from the exhausted. Harry said something that sent Elphaba laughing, ready to cackle, but her ribs cried out for her not to, so she pretended to look serious and chastising at Harry.

He laughed instead. They'd be all right.

"Run this by me once more," Elphaba began, arching her back subtly in the struggle of discovering a position that would suit her aching ribcage. "All I recall is the mob, and…the Cowardly Lion?"

Harry smirked, kicking off from the rock wall he balanced the sole of one foot against, raising his hand as though Elphaba was taking attendance. "Ay." His smirk spread into a grin. "I transformed and took you away from the mob before they could kick you to death. Yes, I know, it was rash." He shrugged when Elphaba's expression turned fierce at his clumsiness. "There wasn't anything else I could think of in the moment."

"That is your trouble, Potter. You cannot think _at all_," muttered Snape, eyes dark and menacing. "Why couldn't you have just used your wand, like a normal wizard? Things would have been much less…chaotic," he sniffed.

"Because I'm not a normal wizard," Harry replied simply, the smile on his face emanating his pride in the statement. The Potions Master merely scoffed.

Elphaba frowned with impatience, partially for her inability to sit up straight for long, and partially because of the squabble that threatened to commence between Harry and Snape. "Well…what exactly has been going on since I've been out?" She was answered with blank looks. "You know…news of Morrible and Weasley, the citizens… how they are fairing with the news of my being alive after all."

Hermione sucked in her cheeks like a fish, making a suckling noise. "We don't know much," she admitted, somewhat sheepishly. "Ron's been putting up anti-apparation and anti-Animagus wards all over the City, so it's become increasingly harder to find any other news. Especially now that all of the City's seen us."

"We've been thinking on our next move," Harry added quickly. "Er, what did you plan as a next move before, anyway?"

Elphaba hummed in a low growl as a response, focusing on her thoughts more than reality. "It's hard to say now that everything's been turned topsy turvey." She narrowed her eyebrows and looked up at the bushy haired witch. "Now that Weasley's sure we're all in Oz and could track us…speaking of which, Hermione, did you put up any charms around the area?"

"_Actually_," stressed the Potions Master, speaking up when Hermione blushed at her error. "I put up wards around the premises. We don't want to neglect our safety and arrive back to Hogwarts in pieces. One would wish to return as a whole, with a box of Weasley in pieces instead."

Although his tone was sinister, Elphaba couldn't suppress a grin at his watery, dark humor, which was sign enough for the green witch that Snape's demeanor wouldn't shift around her.

"As we originally planned, we could go to Kimao Ko," Elphaba suggested thoughtfully. "But Morrible knows about its significance, and perhaps she would anticipate it."

"Morrible?" repeated Snape, greasy hair hanging in the lazy, imposing stance he took. "The gigantic woman?"

Elphaba nodded soberly. "Yes, she would be the…gigantic woman. Whom might have told Weasley that we could be headed there. It could be surrounded with attention, and a trap is the very last thing we need now."

"It could be safer to hide within a castle," Harry thought aloud, taking a seat on the ground stiffly. "Are there defenses there like Hogwarts? Passages and battlements and all that?"

"Good question," Elphaba flashed a small smile. "It doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Fiyero. Besides, my stay there couldn't have been more than a week. Hardly enough time to explore."

"Say Ron already has the place under surveillance, or will be there when we get there. We can still cast some magically enhanced defenses," Hermione suggested, as though the words were her thoughts the second they formed in her head. "Then, when we're in, we can cast some detectors spells. Compared to what it's like out here, it'll be much safer."

"I'd want to think on that a little more," Elphaba muttered, ready to contradict Hermione's idea when Glinda walked back in through the cave mouth, her feet silent on the ground. It made the green witch ponder how simple it would be for someone to waltz in without ill intention only to find the Wicked Witch and her evil cohorts.

Harry glanced warily at Glinda. "You and Fiyero manage to find anything?"

The blonde looked at him, her features gaunt and strict, something obviously on her mind. "I think it was a chicken," she replied, a slight smile on her lips. "Not a Chicken though…don't worry, Elphie." Harry's eyes lit up with excitement as he said a hurried goodbye and ran off to meet his dinner.

"Well, we certainly can think a bit more on it," Hermione said, noticing Glinda's exacting expression and shuffling her feet towards the exit. "We'll leave you two now… we need time to prepare for Kiamo Ko. Why don't you take a rest, Fae, and Glinda will take care of you."

"Of course," Glinda said, watching Hermione drag the Potions Master from his spot. It was only when they were gone that the blonde stole a look at the green witch, then knelt down beside her and took a careful seat.

"People have just been parading in and out of here, haven't they?" Elphaba joked, trying to lighten the mood, but found Glinda somber as ever. "You're certain nothing happened between you and Morrible?"

"Yes, Elphie, I'm fine. Stop nagging me about it. I should be the one fussing over you." She pointed to Elphaba's midsection in example, and for a moment, Elphaba thought the blonde would thump her ribcage. Instead, the blonde met the green witch's gaze. "Elphaba, we haven't completely dealt with your issue yet."

"My..." Elphaba frowned. "About my being wounded?'

"Don't play stupid - about what _led_ to you being wounded," corrected the blonde, her features darkening. "I ordered you, as a _citizen_, not to come back to Oz, and you promised, as my _girlfriend_, that you wouldn't. This was something I was going to handle on my own."

"Glinda," sighed Elphaba, sitting up properly. Glinda abandoned her angered state to open her mouth in protest, but the green witch sat sturdily. "You couldn't have really believed I would just sit by when you were in danger?"

"No," snapped the blonde. "I really believed you would honor your promise to me."

"Sometimes promises need to be broken to ensure the safety of things," stressed Elphaba.

"You kept your promise to the Animals, and you even gave up your own security for it," Glinda began warily, looking back and forth from Elphaba to her folded hands. "You're…not the same Elphaba as before. Not the Elphaba I thought I knew."

Elphaba's face twisted in anger, her teeth clenched to bite back a scream. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" she hissed. "I came back because of you, Glinda. Because you were injured…not just your face. I know you wanted to do this on your own, but you needed help. Weasley is my responsibility, and Morrible pertains to the both of us."

"Help me?" Glinda sat back, raising a brow, as if to mock the green witch. "You've been a whole lot of help, haven't you? Just look at what's become of us. You'd have been a better help if you had just stayed in England, but now, I have to figure out a way to help you as well." She paused. "Damage control, if you will."

"Look," growled Elphaba, willing away the upset of Glinda's words and replacing them with refined temper. She dug her nails into the palm of her hand and forced herself to look at Glinda's face. "If you don't want to deal with me, then you don't have to. You can go back to the Emerald City and fix your name. Tell them I cursed you, that I threatened you. I don't care. They'll believe you. Then you won't have to handle me any more."

Glinda's expression was unreadable. It softened ever so slightly, the rage written on her face becoming more of a tired irritation, or a saddened seething. She was about to respond when Fiyero's boots clattered and echoed through the tunneled rock.

"We have to get going- um…" He stopped once the tension in the atmosphere reached him. The two women were poised like snakes upon attack, both turning their heads towards him to listen. He backed up several steps. "Kiamo Ko. We're waiting… outside."

Fiyero turned and left in a hurry, leaving Elphaba and Glinda to stare at each other, egging the other to speak first. Glinda looked as though she wanted to reach out and touch Elphaba, but the green girl was too angry to let their argument slide. She broke the gaze and struggled to her feet, and Glinda's reaction to help was displayed. Elphaba pushed her off, muffling a groan of pain as she stood, surprisingly steadily.

She walked to the cave mouth without sparing another look at the blonde, breathing the forest air into her lungs, the woody scent invading her welcoming nostrils. Elphaba noticed that the collar preventing animagus transformations was gone. She didn't wait for the others before she transformed, a great black panther. The panther began in a strut, stretching out her feline limbs and muscles, then loped from the cave with a snarl.

Glinda made her way out of the cave and was met by Fiyero's enquiry. "What happened?" The blonde sighed, looking to where Elphaba once was, then to her friends. It would mark a long journey to Kiamo Ko.

**Coming up: The trip to Kiamo Ko…and Ron and Morrible haven't been stopped. Not by a long shot.**

**So…no fluff yet. But I did warn you. Maybe later. –thinks- Yes…I think there will be some later.**

**-Wolfie**


	20. I'm All Alone

**The title from chapter ninteen was from Grease. Congrats to Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, emerald-shego, The-Good-Die-Alone, Courtney Dax, magnam13, TryDefyingGravity, X-Kate-X, Anne Flint, Yank2324, and Dee Zeno. **

**Two (or one) important day(s).**

**First, December 4****th**** was the one-year anniversary of the WotW series! Happy Birthday, WotW.**

**Second, today is my birthday. I'm finally sixteen! Yay!**

**Chapter 20: I'm All Alone**

The relocation to Kiamo Ko was as Glinda predicted. The majority of the participants did not know the direction, and there were long silences and uncomfortable glances. The air was thick in the aftermath of Glinda and Elphaba's squabble so that even the third party members were unnerved. The weather was kind to them; the sun was alleviated by full branches reaching up the heavens, although the rest of the wood was not so kind. Elphaba, who was walking in the front of the group with Harry in their animal forms, had to dodge shrubs, vines, and particularly rude uneven ground.

The two large cats, despite their obstacles, were bounding forward slowly, so as to give those following them room to catch up. Snape trotted along as a fox underfoot, and Hermione perched upon a restless, muscles shoulder on Harry's back. Fiyero and Glinda ambled behind them, narrowly missing the hindrances left for them to avoid themselves.

Although Elphaba's ears were cocked, Fiyero turned to his blonde companion to speak quietly. "What were you two on about, anyway? Back in the cave, I mean."

Glinda was walking alongside him, hands folded together demurely. She looked up at her friend mournfully before returning to following the rest of the group with her eyes. "A misunderstanding," she replied. "We'll be able to work it out later. For now, we're allowed to be angry."

The Winkie Prince frowned. "Just a misunderstanding?" he repeated, looking at the blonde incredulously. "Elphaba looked as though she was gunning to kill someone. For now, yes, you can be angry, but Glinda, we all need to be close out here to survive."

"Well," Glinda muttered, her head swaying some as she decided how to word herself. "Maybe I did…say some things I shouldn't have said," she admitted, holding up a hand before Fiyero could speak. "But she did promise to stay in England, where the situation would have turned out safer. I didn't want her to stay because I didn't want to see her, but that's what Elphie seems to think."

She was quiet for a moment. "You just…" prompted Fiyero.

"Didn't want to see her get hurt because of me. Again."

"Elphaba knew full well the risks when she came to Oz," Fiyero reminded, putting an arm around the blonde's shoulders and guising her into a duck from a giant, low, seemingly ready to collapse branch. "But she couldn't bear staying somewhere safe when you weren't. She's that type of person. We both know that."

"You're right. We can't stay angry with the people after us being so… _insufferable_ as they are," Glinda growled, suddenly getting a vision of Morrible waggling her face degradingly. "I'm just upset that Elphaba risked herself for me and got hurt."

"She'll come around. No one can stay angry at you for long," Fiyero reassured. He flashed a winning smile to set the blonde at ease.

"Madame Morrible certainly can hold a grudge," corrected Glinda.

"Elphaba was always angry with me shortly, and you shorter," assured the Winkie.

"Well, I _am_ ready to make amends with her," Glinda announced confidently, although her smile was reluctant.

"Give her the walk, and she'll be cool once we arrive at Kiamo Ko. I guarantee you," Fiyero said, then promptly tripped over a vine. The blonde let herself smile genuinely and offered a hand to help the Winkie up.

"Speaking Kiamo Ko," Glinda began, "where _exactly _is it? It's westward, that everybody knows…"

"Ah…follow the yellow brick road," recited Fiyero, a goofy grin on his handsome face as he remembered what he'd told Dorothy. "And then, there's a turn-off I know will help us get there."

"We're not even following _a_ road to begin with," whined the blonde. "We're in the middle of a forest, and my shoes are permanently ruined."

"Don't worry," Fiyero sighed. "The road runs parallel to the forest's edge, and I'm sure you own a great many shoes. I checked the road this morning, when everyone was still asleep. As long as we head in the same direction, we should make it to Kiamo Ko. Besides, if we get lost, Hermione could help us navigate through the sky."

Elphaba halted, one massive front paw dangling, ears perked, and turned her head to the humans. Harry stopped to wait for her. He lifted a paw and cleaned his claws with his enormous teeth. The black cat's yellowy feline eyes met Glinda's, and the blonde felt her heart lift, unused to her lover in that form, but recognizing her anyway. Seeming to realize what was going on, the cat's eyes shifted to Fiyero, and she snarled before changing back into her green, human form.

"We should cover more ground today. It'll pass faster," she pronounced. "Fiyero, you get on my back, and Glinda," she didn't look at the blonde, but turned around to transform again, "you can get on Harry."

"Um, are you sure?" Fiyero asked hesitantly, exchanging glances with Glinda. "I mean, your ribs are in pretty bad condition, and I'm heavy. It would be better to have more of a lightweight-"

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly," she snapped. She turned to face him again. "I'm fine. Snape gave me a potion this morning. How else do you expect to get to Kiamo Ko? If we keep at this pace, we'll arrive next summer."

Without waiting for an agreement, she transformed again, snarling at the Winkie with impatience. Fiyero hissed a curse at her, uneasy around the glare of a large, dangerous cat, but walked towards the waiting panther. He looked back at Glinda, who still hadn't budged.

"Come on. Get on Harry," he prompted, mistaking her hesitation for fear. "I've done this a dozen times. Just hop onto his back and hold on, or you'll slip right back off to where you came from."

"No, it's not that." Glinda huffed with irritation. "Fiyero, don't you think it's… dangerous? Elphaba's injuries are still fresh, and you'll be riding on her ribcage."

_If there was a cat that could scoff, it would be Elphaba_, though the blonde, watching as the cat gave a great heaving sigh. It was directed right at her.

"Honestly, Elphie," admonished Glinda, feeling odd talking to a cat. "You should be careful. I'm only saying this because I care about you."

Elphaba stomped her front paws into the dirt and wagged her head towards the lion that was Harry, indicating that Glinda hurry up, then nudged Fiyero forcefully in the knees.

"Ouch! Okay, okay!" Fiyero walked around Elphaba to get on her back. He gave Glinda a helpless shrug and dropped onto the cat.

Glinda looked at them glumly before walking towards Harry, although she was unsure of how to get on. She began with an unladylike squat and decided to sort of jump onto him, and he shook out his mane to indicate for her to hold onto him, which she did quite tightly.

Elphaba took Snape into her teeth, ignoring his struggling limbs and the squealing that came from his sharp mouth before she stared off in a slinking sprint. Harry followed with his own cargo, and no one spoke for the rest of their journey.

Glinda and Fiyero exchanged uneasy glances, not from the situation, but from being jerked around on the backs of wildcats. When she wasn't silently conversing with the Winkie, though, Glinda stole looks at Elphaba, making sure she was alright. What worried Glinda the most, though, was that she was unsure if the panther winced or made faces in pain.

* * *

The newly appointed Captain of the Guard paced back and forth in his rooms, stopping occasionally to viciously kick unsuspecting furniture in his rage. He had made sacrifice upon renouncement, invested time and risk into capturing Thropp, and once again, she had escaped him. 

Ron was itching to hex something, furious at how frustrating the entire situation was, and how now he would have to continue to wheedle to receive what he longed for. Even then, his plans might fall through. Again. Morrible was wrong about Thropp when she compared the green witch to a snake, for Thropp was more like water. The redhead tried to keep her in his grasp, but she kept leaking through his fingers and disappearing into the sea.

The failure hindered the Death Eater, but not his determination. Once Elphaba was dead, (and he would not make the mistake of waiting this time) then Potter would be his next victim. The Boy-Who-lived served an annoying, tiring obstacle in the way of the larger prize, as it had been with Voldemort…and as it was with Thropp now.

As planned, Madame Morrible had successed over Glinda's position and taken over Oz, organizing the next few days and their hectic nature. The Ozians had grown paranoid with worry, fearing the Wicked Witch might have cursed their neighbors, never traveling after dark. The old woman chose Markku to be her personal secretary. They skipped around the city that belonged now to them, feeding the suspicions of suspecting Ozians. Ron snickered. The Ozians just weren't suspicious of the right people.

For now, though, all Ron had to deal with were the wimpy soldiers in his order, with no Thropp to keep him occupied, only the same hunger that he'd been tortured with for months. He hardly counted this as a sufficient prize for all the work he had invested in Morrible's plans.

The redhead stopped pacing, his eye catching the dull wood of his wand, which was sitting quaintly on a dresser. _I hardly deserve what I've got_, he thought, reaching out to grasp his wand and handling it like a dangerous sword. _Now would be a good time to talk to Morrible. A quick 'Imperio' should take care of this mess_.

Newly motivated by his trusty wand, Ron slipped it into his hoister and headed down the halls of the Emerald Palace. The halls, wide and tall, were thankfully not green, but elegant, and almost glassy, along with the corridor furniture. He made his way to the throne room- a giant auditorium of allusion by smoke and mirrors- and peeked in through the doors, where Morrible was speaking with Markku and gesturing wildly.

"Ah, Weasley m'boy!" greeted Morrible, discovering the redhead as he unintentionally swung the door open, stumbling in the process. "Just the one I wanted to see. Come around, dear, over here."

Ron sucked air into his lungs deeply before walking into the room, his boots connecting with echoing floors. "Madame Morrible, Markku, there's a matter of discussion I'd like to resurface, thanks," he said, attempting diplomacy. "About Thropp."

Morrible put a chubby hand to her mouth. "No, I don't suppose she's completely history, is she?"

"What about her?" challenged Markku, raising an eyebrow.

"The deal we made was that I help you receive this," Ron explained, stretching out his arms theatrically to indicate Morrible's new wealthy authority, "and, in turn, I receive Thropp. Well, you're here now, and Glinda is out. So…where's Thropp?"

Markku smirked amusedly at the Death Eater. "It's your fault that you lost her," he said. "We had her right where you wanted her, but you let her be liberated by those people in bathrobes. So it's not my business-" Morrible cleared her throat conspicuously. "So it's not _our_ business anymore."

"Although Weasley brings a good point," interrupted Morrible. She extended her arms to display her extravagant, flowing sleeves as she glided towards them. "Miss Elphaba and Miss Glinda are out there, running wildly, providing not only a security threat with a Wicked Witch on the lose, but Miss Glinda could easily campaign against me."

"Exactly," Ron barked, although it was obviously not his original reason for capturing the green witch. "For the safety of the public and your position, Madame, Thropp must be taken into custody at once. And as the Captain of the Guard, I would be more than willing to contain her and unburden you."

"Ah, but the question remains," Morrible continued dramatically, her likely made-up accent rolling. "How may we find them?"

"Madame." Markku stepped forward to assist the old woman. "May I suggest you to go against this course of action; there are a number of dissuading reasons. Firstly, we mustn't send the Gale Force on wild goose chases, when we haven't an idea as to where Thropp could be. Secondly, we are outnumbered by her band of comrades, each seeming to posses a wand and the same amount of power as Weasley. And thirdly," he smirked, "the public are forming witch hunts. Let the people find her and exact their retribution. Tt'll be getting rid of the nuisance without dirtying our hands."

Ron scoffed. "The people are thick!" he exclaimed. "Thropp and the others would escape by means of magic. And besides, they wouldn't be far, considering the extent of injuries Thropp sustained from the mob, and…my own handy work. She was a green pulp, and if there aren't any bloody wards, I can track her. And about their number…I'm sure there is something in the Grimmerie to fix that. Madame?"

"Too right you are, boy," agreed the old woman, nodding her head. "I understand her capture, but I am not so sure of your means of finding them."

Ron sighed, whipping out his wand lazily. He spied Markku's hand clutch the dagger in his pocket readily. "Look, just let me find them, and it'll be decided from there. Better to know than not- Locaterous Elphaba Thropp." He balanced his wand with an open palm, and it began to spin, gaining speed, before resting to point out a distinct direction. "They're heading west," announced the redhead.

"The west," growled Markku, "is hardly a specific location. I'm sure, with your all encompassing tools of location, we will find them…_west_."

The expression on Morrible's face transformed into one of complete mysteriousness, and she mumbled something indecipherable under her breath. Her features melted into worry, and she began to knead her hands anxiously, continuing to growl words that made no sense.

"Excuse me?" Ron asked, trying not to laugh. "What did you say?"

"Kiamo Ko. They must be heading towards Kiamo Ko," explained the old woman. "Miss Elphaba spent her…eh, last few precious days there before her 'melting'. One would suspect it to be her only safe house. If they are heading west, dear boys, then they are heading to that castle."

"Very well," declared the redhead, heaving his chest confidently. "If we know that, we can head them off!"

"I still think it unwise," argued Markku in a warning tone, eyes dark and glaring at Ron. "If Elphaba Thropp is as desperate as you make her to be, then she would want to know where she stands. Perhaps she might head back into the city, or send one of her own to gather information. If she comes, we have better chances. Green skin, a large cat…" He smiled. "Who could miss it?"

Morrible turned up her nose, seeming to think over each case thoroughly, before letting out a grunt. "No. Markku is right. I'm sure Miss Elphaba will be back before long. She can never stay away," the old woman winked at Ron, "from danger."

She spun around excessively, throwing up her arms to display her flamboyant attire once again, indicating that she was finished with the conversation. Ron understood his dismissal and exited the throne room in a huff.

_Damn Thropp_, he thought, stomping down the hallway_. Damn Morrible_. The redhead thought back to what just occurred, going through the dialogue like an old newspaper. _Most of all, damn Markku_.

Madame Morrible would have agreed to Ron's scheme. She was on the brink of declaring him a genius, if it wasn't for Markku's interference. She listened to the man thoughtfully, and since his appointment to being her personal secretary, considered Markku's ideas even more. This left Ron at a disadvantage.

The Death Eater slammed the door to his rooms before flopping down into a chair and unsheathing his wand carefully. Markku placed a threat on his fundamental purpose, and with that in thought, all threats were to be eliminated, being that Ron had invested so much of himself into causing Thropp's demise.

Markku was no exception. In fact, Ron was glad.

* * *

"Remind me again why we couldn't have just apparated?" Snape drawled from behind his curtain of greasy hair. 

They had walked for hours, their resting rare and the extent of it minimal. They chose a deserted area, a small fire blazing from an improvised hearth to ward off dangerous animals and sustain some kind of sanity. The air was tense with the group's unspoken issues. It needed to be thinned somehow, and soon.

"Because," persisted Harry, gritting his teeth at the Potion Master's stubbornness. "You're more than welcome to try it, but don't expect me to pick up your body parts when you splinch yourself. Fiyero's got a general idea, but other than that, we don't know exactly where Kiamo Ko is."

"There's no need to be cheeky, Potter," scolded the older man. "I was merely complaining for the sake of it."

"Well, you know how much I like it when you do that," snorted Harry, looking over at Elphaba quickly. He did a double take, returning his gaze to the lithe panther, and sighed. "And Fae, why don't you transform back? It's called joining in on the conversation. You should try it sometime."

The panther peered up at the Boy-Who-Lived with sharp eyes from where she lay on the ground, far from the fire, with her tail twitching behind her. She was otherwise unresponsive. Elphaba had been pointedly avoiding eye contact with Glinda, whom she could feel watching her, causing her fur to ruffle and stand on edge. Evading the blonde was much simpler a task in the form of an animal, given that she could not speak, and was quite intimidating on her own. Also, the pain from her ribcage and stinging wounds wasn't as intense, for the giant feline was able to maintain a larger threshold for pain.

Fiyero seemed more distraught about Elphaba and Glinda's apparent falling out than the two women themselves. He sat with Hermione leaning against his shoulder, knees jiggling anxiously as he stole looks back and forth from the blonde to the panther over the fire. He kept finding cues for Elphaba to speak with Glinda, but she ignored them all as thought she didn't notice.

From being supervised by Glinda to being uncomfortable by Fiyero's sudden interest in the matter, Elphaba stood on all fours and stretched her long, sleek body, before beginning to pace by the fire. The dancing flames withered and reached out for her; the orangey color illuminated her black coat and glinted off her eyes. She would speak to her girlfriend on her own time, and no one was going to rush her. The last thing Elphaba needed was to slip up and say the wrong thing, as Glinda had done to her.

Glinda watched as Elphaba paced by the fire. The concentrated animal reflected Elphaba almost as though she were human. The blonde gingerly stood, coming over to place a hand on the panther's back and engulfing her hand with wiry fur. Elphaba exhaled through her nose, huffing, and walked over to Harry. She nudged his side harshly, as though she were a trained housecat.

Fiyero shot Elphaba a dirty glare as he noticed the hurt look on the blonde's face. It was not unfamiliar during the day; Glinda's depression from Elphaba's rejection was the most Fiyero had ever seen Glinda so unhappy. She had covered herself well when they were both under rule of the Wizard, and joining in his government. She had never before showed herself this dispirited.

"Fae, I'm exhausted," complained Harry, who received another nudge, harder this time. He grunted, rubbing his side, and only laying down his arms when it became a paw. This was followed by Snape and Hermione's transformation. After several minutes of preparation, they headed out once again, Fiyero assuring them that they were close.

They sped towards their destination, Fiyero and Glinda on the backs of the huge cats. Elphaba only accepted the Winkie, as it had been the entire time.

"Elphaba," Fiyero said, his voice warbling as his body was wrenched from being atop a running wildcat. "You know you can't continue this way." He was met with silence, but Elphaba bucked her back legs, as though it constituted as some kind of applicable response. "We can't be broken up with Morrible and Weasley on our track. It'll only make it easier for them. And you're hurting Glinda. Look, you came here to stop her from being harmed, but you're doing it yourself. She's _sorry_. Think about it, Elphaba, okay?"

As expected, Elphaba didn't reply, but Fiyero didn't know if that was due to whether she was incapable or didn't want to. He didn't mention it again, but let himself enjoy the freedom of speeding through the open woods, Oz splayed out in front of him, the cool evening air enveloping and messing up his hair.

Sooner than even the Winkie expected, the view towers, tall and grand and covered in brick, signaled Kiamo Ko was straight ahead. It meant separate things to each member of the group, but the animals pushed themselves onward, eager to arrive.

"We're here!" announced Fiyero. "Let us go forward."

**Coming up: Elphaba the Insanely Idiotic.**

**Reviews make good birthday presents. (-wink-)**

**-Wolfie**


	21. Blood in the Water

**The title from chapter twenty was from Spamalot. Congrats to Kalacyn, Dark-Angel-874, Dee Zeno, Raiko Toho, TryDefyingGravity, Anne Flint, Courtney Dax, and Yank2324.**

**Magnam13: Wow…another picture? Thanks! Hmm…how about the scene in chapter 20 where Elphaba is in black panther form and Glinda comes up to touch her (right after which Elphaba pulls away)? I've always wanted to see a picture of Elphaba as a panther. Thank you so much! (Even though my birthday was a week ago…)**

**I'm sorry I didn't do my normal Friday updates, but yesterday, I had a choir performance and a friend came over before that, so I couldn't get on my laptop at all. So here's the next chapter a day late. **

**Chapter 21: Blood in the Water**

"Hetoe arimas." Seconds of silence followed. Everyone strained, as if expecting an explosion. A small, white puff of odorless smoke erupted from Elphaba's wand, and the green witch grunted in satisfaction.

She nodded towards the others, standing just outside the front gates of Kiamo Ko. Giant vines spun around and grew in cracks of brick, like veins; it made the giant building seem lifelike. In comparison, the group seemed miniscule.

"We're clear," confirmed Elphaba. "There's no one else in this area."

"We've enough trouble to last a lifetime," Snape muttered. "If luck be a lady, let's hope she lives here." He started for the castle, stalking off, as if his shoes were too large, but Hermione made a muffled sound. She leapt forward, grabbing the Potions Master by the back of his robes and pulled him back.

"Wait!" the bushy haired witch chided."We need to set wards around the circumference of the castle. Muggle-repelling, so the Ozians can't find us. Some anti-apparating ones, obviously, and an anti-animagus one…" her voice grew distant as she and Snape walked to the side, taking out their wands and beginning their task.

"Well…" Harry trailed off, raising his eyes to scale the building. "Fae, Fiyero, Glinda, and I will just go and explore, then, why don't we?"

He was grinning, excited at this new singularity, an obvious symbol of his life as a wizard, and everything he'd grown and loved as one. The Boy-Who-Lived looked just as his title, a boy, almost skipping as he herded the other three towards the door, which was tall and sturdy. He didn't seem to notice the slightly restrained sour expressions on his companions' faces, for the castle opposed his impression, as the memories it brought to the Ozians were nothing but ruinous.

Elphaba flicked her wand and opened the heavy door, slowly revealing the entrance hall as it squeaked apart on its rusted hinges. They entered apprehensively, and once Fiyero took a sturdy step, he promptly sneezed. Then again. A fine layer of dust had settled over absolutely everything, coating every nook and cranny in sight.

"Isn't there a spell or something to clean this place up?" he wheezed, banging a fist on his chest and trying not to double over. "My allergies!"

"That would be Hermione's area of expertise," Harry apologized, standing still in fear that he would be sent into a bout of sneezing, too. He noticed the two women walking around, indifferent to the unsanitary conditions. His shoulder visibly loosened as he followed them. "Now, where would be a good place to sleep?"

Elphaba shrugged. "The couch," she replied, deadpan. "I don't know. Root around upstairs and see what you can find. There are rooms upon rooms, and if I recall, linens upon linens tucked away. But… are we sleeping now? We just arrived here."

"It would be best." Snape's voice filled the hall, the man having arrived with Hermione close on his heels, "if we retreated to bed. We're bloody exhausted, and the sun's setting. Once we're all rested, we could devise a better plan of action."

"Fine," Elphaba sighed, waving a hand. "Just go upstairs. There might have been looters or something, so be cautious."

"No," interjected Glinda, finally speaking up since they took off for the castle last. Her voice was refreshing, almost to the point of being missed. Elphaba secretly reveled in it. "The Ozians wouldn't dare trespass this place. It's taboo, and I also outlawed it. It should be the same as when you left it. When you… um… melted."

"Then, don't be cautious," Elphaba amended briskly. "Like I said, there should be bedding somewhere…I mean, this is a castle." She turned to Fiyero, who was preoccupied with looking sheepish. "Do you know your way around here?"

"Not really," admitted the Winkie. "You know that my family never really lived here. It was insurance, I suppose. We stayed at the _other_ castle, remember?"

"Yes, of course," Elphaba replied dryly. She gazed at the winding brick staircase that lead upstairs, her eyes coincidentally traveling up the tall walls and vast space, cases of expensive knick knacks and glassware, trophies and bobbles assorted, the rest of the hall completely deserted. "Well, a little exploring never hurt anyone." The others looked around, then at each other doubtfully. The green witch made a face and groaned. "Off your go," she prompted, moving her hands in a 'shoo' motion towards the staircase. "We'll talk tomorrow morning."

The others quickly dispersed, charging up the stairs, having been accustomed to the ancient architecture and old-fashioned upholstery. They were eager to find a bed to get a good rest in for over a week, and now they'd received their wish. Elphaba smirked and was about to follow them when a voice that had had cameo earlier decided to play a larger role.

"Elphie." The green witch turned around to face Glinda, who hadn't moved from where she stood before, appearing tired and beseeching. "We need to talk."

Elphaba sniffled, trying to avoid dust from invading her nostrils and shuffled her feet in silence. "You made it perfectly clear about my coming here. About me," she said finally, her voice hardened. "If we start to talk, I'll be yelled at. That's certainly not how I like to spend time. Now, if you don't mind-"

"I mind a lot," Glinda said, her voice steady and commanding. It made Elphaba freeze on the spot, the giant room spread out before her. "Listen to me, Elphaba. Would you just listen for a minute?" Elphaba's hands met her hips, and she avoided the blonde's eyes, but Glinda continued anyway. "I'm sorry about what I said in the cave. I was dog-tired, Elphie, and worried sick about you. What I said…it wasn't…truly the best choice of words," Glinda said guardedly, "because I _am_ grateful that you came. Truly.

"All the worry just became anger, but not towards you. The mob…just everything…it was the worst thing I'd ever seen. I couldn't believe you were still alive. I was scared…because if it weren't for me, it would never have happened to you. That's all."

Elphaba studied the blonde's face for a moment, her own unreadable. She took a deep breath. "I expect something like that-"

"That doesn't mean it's not true," argued the blonde.

"-Because I understand. Everything you said made me think about how everything, anything I do to help always backfires. Like a curse…but no one can really blame it on a curse, could we?" She chuckled bitterly, barely uttering the laugh beneath her breath. "I'm sorry for avoiding you. I hurt you."

"And I hurt you. It evens out." Glinda smiled, reaching out a small hand to touch the green witch, but Elphaba recoiled.

"Not yet," she said, looking at Glinda with eyes full of apology. "Could I…sleep on it first?"

The blonde looked away for a moment and then nodded, although the accumulation of stress and exhaustion had her fighting back tears. What she wanted most was to forget anything had ever happened and curl up beside Elphaba in an old, dusty bed, wheezing along happily with the green witch.

"Of course, Elphie," she replied. "I'll see you in the morning." She brushed past Elphaba, narrowly bumping into the woman, although the rooms in the hall seemed endless. She disappeared into the darkness along the hall to one of the rooms, as though she knew the place well.

Elphaba walked up the stairs slowly, pacing her legs, as they already ached from their long travel. She walked along the darkened, grimy corridor and found a room with a bed. The green witch flopped down carefully, so as not to harm her ribs. The dust on the bed rose up to attack her face, but she raised a hand to cover her eyes and nose while waiting for it to settle. She fell asleep with the same hand over her face, with mingled images of Morrible, Voldemort, Glinda, and taunting cries from the mob assaulting her in her sleep.

* * *

The moon was full when Elphaba awoke. Whatever she was dreaming had left no lasting effect on her. The imagery was indistinct, only a lingering query as to why she'd awoken. Judging from the moon's position in the sky - a hazy, pale circle - the time was midnight or later. It had been a while since the green witch had gazed out a Kiamo Ko window, so she trudged across the chamber floor and over to the sill. 

The light from the Emerald City was nothing but a distant speck of bright light. The nightlife of Oz's capital was as booming as it was simple. She wondered what the state of the place was like as the lights twinkled and danced. Hermione had told the green witch that they couldn't find an opening to investigate, that there were wards against them all over the city, and that was a definite signal that the City was much too dangerous.

Now, though, when Elphaba was very much conscious and not in need of constant attention, the danger of investigating was somewhat alleviated. And what was a little more risk piled onto her collection?

_Don't even entertain the notion_, the lucid part of herself immediately snapped. _Do you have a death wish?_

_It's better to know and be prepared_, argued her irrational side. _If you leave now, you'll be back before it gets light out. No one will realize you're gone, and it'll help you plan better._

_Plan better!_ laughed the first side harshly._ What do you even expect to find? You know what Morrible and Weasley will be saying, and what the Ozians will believe. Captured at all costs, dead or alive…_

_The Ozians believe what they want to. For all you know, they could be looking for Glinda, wanting her side of things. We need to be prepared to fight anything_, replied the illogical part of Elphaba, and the green witch smirked.

She had never been known to think things through completely, so she made her way down the silent, lightless corridor, and then down the flights of stairs. She was greeted by the cool night air as it lapped against her face in breezes.

She breathed in the cold air deeply before apparating to the edge of the Emerald City's limits, gazing upon mighty gates. The green witch was hardly afraid, for she'd lived in this city for ages, and routed around it as a fugitive for just as long. To Elphaba, the gates were like flimsy paper, a glass barricade, a porcelain warrior sent to challenge her plight.

This would be quick. Maybe there were old newspapers or people to overhear. She transformed into her animal form with a quiet 'pop', the moonlight casting light on her sleek coat. As she entered the city, she felt the wards against her animagus and apparation shimmer. It was a slight tingling sensation that most likely meant defeat in regards to the ward.

_The great thing about rudimentary animagus wards_, she thought cheekily, _is that they can only prevent people from transforming inside them. They can't stop a panther that is already a panther from a nighttime stroll_.

The feline padded silently into the city, her ears cocked for any passing people. The lights seemed duller up close, the real nightlife emanating from the center of the place. There didn't seem to be anyone about, which just meant that Elphaba's job would be much simpler than she had anticipated. Her nose twitched as she turned a corner into an alleyway, hoping for some kind of aid.

This would be quick and easy. Out faster than she was in, like she had never come back.

* * *

Glinda awoke with a sneeze, wildly rubbing her nose in an attempt to get rid of the dust that was obviously aggravating it. She sat up and pinched the bridge of her nose and took a few breaths. Then, she realized that it wasn't the sneezing that brought her to consciousness. There was a certain inkling of dread that was stirring in her stomach, something that told her things weren't exactly the way she'd left them. Something in the castle was amiss. 

Gingerly, she slipped out of bed, chilled slightly by the night air as it crept into her room and danced across her bare flesh. The corridor was pitch dark; the blonde sensed no movement to make up for her sight. Eventually, as she tiptoed across the cold stone floor, her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, and she noticed that the door to the room Elphaba marked as hers was slightly ajar.

"Elphie?" she whispered loudly, her voice grinding like gravel. "Are you awake?"

There was no answer. The only time Elphaba would keep her door open was if she was awake, so the green witch was probably just brooding over her and Glinda's situation. If there was some way she could persuade Elphaba to just forget about their trouble, and maybe allow the blonde into her bed, then it would be worth sneaking around a creepy old castle, but there didn't seem to be any movement in the room.

She made her way across the hall and held onto the door, calling the green witch's full name, without reply once again. Glinda frowned and pushed the door open to peek in. "Elphaba, are you in here?"

The room wasn't dark like the hallway, for it had a rather large window that faced the moon, pouring dim light across the floor. The blonde's heart gave a jolt when she realized she was completely alone in the room: The bed was abandoned, and the sheets were twisted to indicate that it was once occupied.

"Elphaba?" whined the blonde, dragging out her tone nervously.

Another cool breeze caused her to shiver, so she went to close the open window. She was about to do so when she noticed the view. Whenever she shifted, the distance sparkled with lights, for the Emerald City was alive even at the most obscene hours.

It was a paradox that Elphaba would even want a _view_ of that place, but it was perfectly aligned. An awful thought came to Glinda. She didn't suspect Elphaba to be creeping around stone castles as much as stone alleyways.

"Sweet Lurline, Elphaba," muttered the blonde frantically, closing the window. "Please don't be there. Anywhere but there." She hurried off to Fiyero's room, hoping the Winkie would be able to assist her, and if not, worry along with her.

* * *

There was absolutely nothing. Nothing. 

One would expect people to still be jittered about the entire ordeal. Merlin knew Elphaba was. She growled softly to express her exasperation as she left the alley for another, her tail swishing rapidly behind her. There wasn't a single lead to weave a guess on, no people or news to help her gain a single idea to the state of the city. It seemed exactly how she left it six years ago, exterior exactly as Glinda had left it days ago.

She thought darkly on her plan to leave the city soon and apparate back to Kiamo Ko, unaware of the eyes that did a double take, then followed her path.

"Hey!" An Ozian, tall with a warm coat, nudged the woman who was on his arm, obviously his wife. "Ain't that a black panther?"

"No panther hangs around the city, dear," chided his wife.

"No, ain't that the Wicked Witch?" he clarified.

His wife shivered, despite her cozy petticoat. "Y'know, that _must_ be the Witch, for sure," she replied as she pulled her husband backwards warily. "Now, we ain't too far from the Palace, so I say we make a break for it. There'll be guards waiting, and they might even have a reward! Lurline knows we could use the extra money."

"Be quit, woman!" hushed the man, already slinking along towards the palace. "Don't let the Witch hear us!"

The guards on duty were mostly sleeping.

"She went that-a-way," the wife pointed after giving a description of the huge black cat and the dangerous swishing tail.

The guards nodded. They sent signals to their comrades on the opposite sides of the Emerald Palace, waking up those who decided to sleep through their duty. In less than a minute, they were marching away to achieve their objective. They split up and strained to catch sight of a wily tail or daring yellow eyes.

Meanwhile, Elphaba was unaware of her sudden attention, nor the chaos that was soon to ensue. She padded over a paper discarded on the ground, then backed up to scan it quickly, the headline catching her eye.

"Morrible declared Weasley Captain on the Guard", it said, and the actual article mentioned Markku's being personal secretary. This was something of interest. Elphaba changed back to her human self to pick up the paper and stash it in her robes. Her hand brushed against her wand, and it reminded her of extra protection.

She turned around to leave, when the sound of a gun being cocked behind her echoed past the walls.

"D-don't move, _Witch_!" someone yelled. The green witch heard multiple footsteps clatter around her, and she ducked slightly, trying to think of an idea. _Crap. This is bad_, the voice that prompted her little scavenger hunt squealed.

_Hate to say I told you so_, the rational part of her brain, the one whose voice sounded a lot like _Elphaba_ right now replied smugly. She attempted to transform into a panther, but realized that she was incapable now that she was inside a warded area. Her wand poked against her robes, and she fumbled with it to transform manually, but the ward wouldn't let her animal form budge. She took off running.

A single bullet whizzed by her shoulder, and she couldn't tell whether it grazed her or not. There was a slight pain in her shoulder, but that could have just been due to her frantic movement as she leapt onto a rusty trashcan, utilizing her momentum to pounce onto a row of houses. Fortunately their roofs were just high enough.

She heard soldiers clutter all around her, their yells to one another and threats to her bouncing throughout the alleyways. Elphaba made her way across the houses, cursing harshly as she stubbed her knee, then her foot, and scrambled to keep moving.

"Secure the entrances!" shouted a soldier. "Don't let her escape! Remember, this is an order to kill unless instructed otherwise. Dammit, someone find Weasley!"

Another cried the name of several men. "Get up onto the roofs. It's an order to kill!"

_To kill_, Elphaba repeated, as though their shouts were reverberating inside her head as well as the alleys.

Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard that it felt like it had jumped to her throat, fear fueling her adrenaline. Her movements were remarkably feline as she leapt from rooftop to rooftop, although she managed to avoid the Gale Force who were taking her route. Finally, she reached the end of the roofs, and realized that there was no more room. Ground level was her only option.

Holding her breath, the green witch made a dead fall towards the ground, and landed on her feet, crouching. Bullets, large and clunky, rushed past her head, and perhaps their slow pace was because of the blood throbbing in her eyes. Her speed aided her cloak as it billowed and threw off the Gale Force's aim.

_Five yards until the gates, _she thought, feet thumping on the dirt.

Three yards.

One.

An officer stepped into her line of vision and raised the barrel of his gun to her face, his expression dead serious and devoid of any hesitation. The green witch didn't slow down her speed; she swung an arm near his face and threw him off temporarily enough to veer off the course of his gun, but she barely missed slamming into the gates herself.

Her legs were aching right now, blood crashing in her head, but she forced herself into a mighty climb, swinging her person over the fences and onto the ground outside. Gasping for air, and feeling her body give way now that she wasn't standing upright, Elphaba squeezed her eyes shut and thought about Kiamo Ko so hard that she apparated away faster than ever before.

Was a measly paper worth almost losing your life and causing uproar and attention from the very military chasing her? At least now there was something to go on. _At least now I feel better about it_, mused Elphaba.

She landed with a violent thud on the dirt outside of Kiamo Ko. The doors were right into front of her, and she tensed to realize her surroundings, collapsing in a pile of gasps. The sun was slowly beginning to pink the sky, shining strong, but distanced rays. It was warm outside now, but the green witch's body felt cold, despite the sweat dripping down her neck in salty beads.

She stood up on her own time, dusting off her cloak and mopping her sweat distractedly. There was something coming towards her in uneven stomps, and that was when Elphaba realized it was actually a person.

A vertically challenged, very blonde person.

A vertically challenged, very blonde, irate person.

As Glinda stormed up to her, Elphaba formulated words at her lips before thinking about them. "Glinda wait, I can explain-"

"Elphaba Thropp," boomed the blonde, not even hearing the green witch start to speak. "You can be assured that Weasley won't lay a finger on you now, because _I am going to slaughter you_."

**Coming up: Glinda tries not to slaughter Elphie and Ron has got more nefarious plans up his sleeve.**

**Next week will be the last update you get for…two weeks? Something like that. So, as a gift to you (and especially to Yank2324, whom the gift was originally posted for), there will be…an interlude of fluff after the actual chapter next week. It will take place sometime in the winter of WotW1, right after Elphaba and Glinda confess their feelings for each other.**

**-Wolfie**


	22. Glooming Peace

**The title from chapter twenty-one was from Legally Blonde. Congrats to Dark-Angel-874, Downright Shame, Yank2324, Defying Gravity 728, Dee Zeno, 0xRENTxOZxHeadx0, Anne Flint, Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, and Courtney Dax.**

**Whoo! Long chapter this time! And an extra holiday present for you (and especially Yank2324, whom the interlude was **_**originally **_**written for) at the end of the chapter. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 22: Glooming Peace**

When Glinda was angry, she adopted a shrill, belittling tone that stung the ears and caused one to wince, which is exactly what Elphaba did. For the time Glinda spent as an epitome of sweetness, she damned with this scornful attitude.

"Glinda," Elphaba tried, preparing herself. "I can explain this. Give me the time to explain, and it won't be what it seems like."

_It's exactly what it seems like,_ _and you know it_, berated the annoying voice in her head.

_Oh, shut it_, retorted the other voice angrily, apparently deciding to stick up for Elphaba from herself. _I don't see you trying to remedy this_. As the blonde glared up at her in the morning sun, brand new rays sparkling against the dew, Elphaba wondered if she was going insane. After all, holding conversations with a voice in your head was never encouraged or praised. She had two of them.

"Don't even try. You'll just make it worse for yourself," barked the blonde. They shared a look, and Elphaba inhaled to speak, but stopped short when she realized her girlfriend had more to add. "You _knew_ the consequences of going back to the City, especially by yourself. I know you're not the best when it comes of this sort of thing, but you almost died the last time we were in the city. And judging by the state of you, you got away by a hair again."

"Define 'hair.'" The green witch smiled sheepishly, earning a quieting look of pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

"Now I'm certain you never want to use your ribs again," scoffed Glinda, bringing her hands to her hips and glaring at the green witch in a way that suggested her authority was misplaced in her height.

"Do the others know I was gone?" asked Elphaba. Her eyes flickered towards the coming sunrise. The warm rays cast strong shadows and made the entire countryside seem bedazzling. The dewy grasses and bulky trees were lush, and the mighty castle's bricks didn't so much as glint, for with ancient value came crumbling stone. "Wouldn't everyone be waking by now?"

"I didn't know whether you'd be alive or dead, or if you'd ever return; of course they had to know!" shrilled Glinda, her gaze steady on Elphaba. The green witch wanted to tear away the eye contact, but found she couldn't. "Fiyero's about to explode. He's contemplating locking you up in a room until Morrible and Weasley are taken care of. At this point, Elphie, I would _assist_ him."

"It's not as though I went back for fun, Glinda!" argued the green witch, but not so passionately as to ignite a verbal fight between them. She wasn't sure if they could handle another one this soon.

"The entire place is after your neck," said the blonde evenly, "and you decided to, what? Give them a test run?"

Elphaba clenched her teeth, the leafy green skin of her jaw rippling with rising irritation. She'd tolerated grilling from mass amounts of people in her lifetime, and had developed an impeccable patience, one she didn't often exercise since her sister.

"I knew what I was doing," she objected, her tone of voice defensive. "For news, leads. We had no idea what was going on in the major areas that we should keep tabs on. It'll help us when it comes time to be prepared for what we're up against."

"News? I don't care about news. I care about you," snapped the blonde. "You have no idea how it felt when I realized you were gone. There's only so much a person can handle, and you just keep pushing it."

"Because I'm trying to _fight_," stressed the green witch. "We were fine back at Hogwarts, remember? Here, we need to focus on dealing with Morrible – which will take all our strength, mind you – so that afterwards, we can be fine again."

"I went to your room to see if you were alright, but the place was empty," Glinda said crossly. "If you were captured, Weasley would have…" She trailed off, her voice gradually raising several octaves and softening. The thought, detailed from past examples of what Elphaba had endured from Weasley, was not something the blonde wished to dwell on. "Elphaba, look at me."

Elphaba clenched her jaw to straighten herself out and looked down at the blonde. "Yes?" she beckoned, meeting blue eyes and holding the gaze.

"I can't lose you again." Glinda's voice was soft as a whisper, almost beseeching. "Now, more than ever. You're all I have. There's nobody else I would want to be all I have, but…you don't know what it was like after you faked your death. Six years of no absolute purpose…"

Elphaba involuntarily bit her tongue with nervousness, grimacing at the sudden pain. "Oz-" she began, before being interrupted.

Glinda's eyes left Elphaba's gaze, but when they met again, her eyes were tearing. The tip of her nose was slightly reddened. "No, that's not the same. And last year, when you were captured, it was the worst time of my life. All right? Do you get it now?"

"I understand," Elphaba sighed, watching the blonde to realize she was shaking. "I didn't want to worry you. I just wanted to be of use. We need to know what we're doing," she said softly before reaching out to grip the blonde's shoulders. The green witch found her own hands enveloped beneath the blonde's. The warmth from the other body tingled her freezing fingers.

"We need to know," echoed the blonde, looking up at her girlfriend mournfully. Her lips cracked a sudden smile, which filled the green witch with relief. She hadn't seen Glinda smile since the night before, and now that it was directed at Elphaba, she felt safer. She grinned back.

"I didn't think anyone would be awake by the time I got back," Elphaba elaborated. She sagged slightly as Glinda pressed her face to Elphaba's chest, inventing a sort of embrace without holding.

"I woke up in the middle of the night," Glinda admitted as she rested her cheek against the taller woman, "because it was a little cold. You left the window open. There was a chill."

"Sorry," Elphaba articulated and pulled away from the blonde to discover her still smiling.

"I used to do it all the time when you left Oz. Wake up often, that is," Glinda drawled, making conversation, but unconscious of the sudden guilt that constricted Elphaba's chest. To say they were in a complicated relationship was an understatement. "I ran to Fiyero last night, though, and the entire castle's been up since then."

"Is Fiyero…terribly angry with me?" Elphaba asked hesitantly, knowledgeable that the thin ice they were treading had just begun to layer over again. Her friends weren't daft, and it wasn't a particularly new sensation to be caught red-handed. "If they know where I went, then he'll be livid, won't he?"

"Hermione tried a tracking spell, but the wards around the city made it useless. By process of elimation, we decided you went to the City," explained the blonde, taking her girlfriend's hand and slowly leading her towards the front door. Confrontation was inevitable. "He's ready to lock you up in the farthest tower by now, I'd guess, or even send you back to England. You scared us, Elphie."

"Wonderful," Elphaba breathed into a sigh as she closed her eyes. Fiyero had used to be quite simple to decrypt, but even when he was shamefully obvious, the methods he used to explore anger were always unpredictable. She didn't enjoy dealing with him in that way, since the green witch liked to believe human behavior utterly banal. "Would it be inappropriate to say I'm more frightened of him than the mob?"

"Inappropriate, yes, but very, very smart of you." Glinda laughed and shook her head, her curls bobbing cutely. It was as though her exterior could never be marred, no matter her quality of living, due to extreme primping in earlier years.

"All right, so, you're my girlfriend," Elphaba began bluntly. She halted them both in front of the doors, he giant metal handle bolted to the mammoth doorway, which would likely allow twenty people to enter at once, if they were creative.

"I'd like to think so," giggled the blonde.

"Yes, and for the sake of that…please don't let him hurt me," the green witch finished sheepishly, sounding pathetic in a way that caused Glinda to snort uncharacteristically. "You and I both know he can become a little…off his wagon when he's angry."

"That would only be when he's angry with you. Honestly, anyone would go crazy. But, I'll raise my hand in oath-idarity," Glinda smiled and made a little show of waggling her free hand, "to make sure he leaves at least your eyes alone. Honestly, what's a relationship if you can't see the _star_?"

"I'd say a damn good relationship," Elphaba mumbled nervously, which earned herself a giggle and a playful whack on the shoulder before Glinda hauled open the door. It seemed she'd been in practice, likely heaving it open repeatedly that morning, waiting for the green witch to return.

Walking through the castle and down the corridor, Elphaba felt foolish, like a mischievous child about to be berated by her parent. Voices were echoing from the dining room, which was more of a dining hall to rival that of the Great Hall in Hogwarts.

"Well, well." Snape's voice rose above the hissing whispers, ones that distinctly belonged to Harry. It immediately drew attention to the doorway. "Look who's finally decided to grace us all with her presence. Welcome back, Fae. Kiamo Ko not grand enough as the Emerald City for you?"

"It certainly was dangerous enough, huh," Harry mused, shooting Elphaba a sympathetic smiled. He silently reassured the green witch that she wasn't entirely alone.

Fiyero's back had been turned to the doorway; he'd been leaning at the foot of the very long, lean dining table that was obviously build for parties. His shoulders were squared back like wings, signaling that he was either ranting before or breathing hard. He turned slowly, his eyes dark as he met Elphaba's. The green witch waited patiently.

"Elphaba," he addressed coolly, although his expression was absolutely barbaric, handsome features twisted. "What the hell were you thinking?"

The green witch groaned inwardly, reasoning that this was a day he would end up yelling. She didn't think to speak before he opened his mouth again, this time the volume louder, reverberating off the walls, as though the sound claimed the castle as his territory.

"You were beaten bloody in that Unnamed God damned city," he yelled, using Ozian terms, which did not go unnoticed, "and you go back for what? _More_? I know you've always been rash like this, bloody rash, but who'd have thought you'd kept your immaturity from university? Stubborn, like you've always been! You call me brainless," he spat, "but I'm not the one sneaking at midnight to crawl back into the city- your own personal little hell!"

"I-" Elphaba tried to say.

"I have half a mind to send you back to England-" he continued, and Elphaba noticed the smug smile Glinda was trying to suppress, "-just to- just to _cool off_! I mean, what good are you defeating Madame Morrible and Weasley if you're _dead_?"

"Fiyero, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own person, injury or perfectly unscathed, which we can't all be every day," snapped the green witch, advancing upon Fiyero, who suddenly looked as though he felt very small comparing to Elphaba's masterful scolding. "I knew what I was getting myself into, that I would be killed if I were caught, but it was necessary to know what we're up against. We can't just…just _waltz_ up to Morrible without any sense of direction of how to fight her."

"So, what happened?" Hermione interrupted.

"Nothing happened," shrugged the green witch, hoping that would conclude her and Fiyero's argument, but the lines on Fiyero's face suggested otherwise.

Glinda gave a small scoff, almost as though it had emanated from a mouse somewhere near the door. "Elphaba, you look horrible. 'Nothing' clearly means something. After the mob, you shouldn't be exerting yourself; Lurline knows what odds you were up against. You'll only hurt your recovery."

"But-" Elphaba began.

"Look at it this way: The politician is speaking sense," Harry spoke up, sharing a knowing smile with the blonde near the door. "They call me rash, but if I'm rash, I'd hate to be the bloke who'd have to classify you, Fae."

"You-" Elphaba tried again.

"Typical Gryffindor behavior," Snape practically yawned, obviously disconcerted that he saw for himself that Elphaba was alive and well. It was a trait she enjoyed of him- the reason why she believed they understood one another: problem solved, problem gone. "Acting before a process of thought. So tell us, Fae, did you find anything useful in your adventure? Or was that all for naught?"

"Actually, I did," Elphaba replied happily, now that there was an opening to divert the subject. She patted her robes to find the newspaper and revealed it. "Here." She threw it to Hermoine, who caught the sections before they flew around the table. "There are some headlines about Weasley and Markku."

The group, minus Glinda at the door, who seemed to be lost in thought, gathered around the columns to read the headlines and delve into the articles, fat full of current events. It was dated no more than a day or so before. Elphaba was about to join in to point out a few features when she felt Fiyero's glare on her. She turned to look and found him leaning up against the table to face her, arms crossed against his broad chest, eyebrows meeting at the center of his face.

"Ahem?" prompted the green witch, folding her own arms challengingly.

"Take a nap," ordered the Winkie prince, sounding exactly as his title implied. His tone left no room for defiance; this was his house.

Elphaba eyed him strangely, not intimidated by his powerful standing. "A nap? I need to help with this, and I haven't even read the article yet. I risked a helluva lot to get it, and for all we know, it could hold the greatest lead we have."

"Oh, we can give you the summarized version. Everyone knows you're not one for extensive reading," Glinda chimed in. "Elphie, Fiyero's right. You've been up since midnight, probably sprinting as fast as you could through the city, which is a big city. I'm surprised you haven't fallen asleep standing up yet."

"You've all been wide awake as well," argued Elphaba, sniffing. "No."

"_We're_ all going to get as much _rest _as we can," Glinda stressed, catching the green witch's eye, her own blue irises twinkling with what could have been mischief. "Weasley's not going to give us a vacation before coming after us. So, come upstairs. Now."

The others were engrossed in the articles, having practically torn the sections apart to acquire in the information faster. That kind of meeting of minds was something Elphaba absolutely soaked up, and so she slinked from the dining hall dejectedly. Fiyero glared at her once more before turning to consult with Harry. It wasn't until their voices, much more sparse this time, became wordless again that Elphaba realized Glinda was trailing behind her.

* * *

There was an entire chamber in the Emerald Palace dedicated to being a greenhouse. It held a multitude of plant life, from foreign ferns and multicoloured flowers found in Munchkinland, to the regal white vinery commonly found where Glinda and Morrible came from, to anything predominately Ozian. Ron didn't know why exactly anyone would want to spend so much money on such a thing, but if it was all collected by taxes, the redhead hadn't a problem.

Upon a tour of the government palace, the Death Eater scoffed at the ridiculousness of a conservatory, but there he stood, next to a flower that grew only in the swampy areas of Munchkinland, the tag reading that they grew only three months out of every year, and seldom kept from extinction without assistance from people. It was ugly and yellow, extending like peddled, vomit coloured leaves, laughing at him.

The humidity of this closed off section was overwhelming, being that it was an interpretation of ideal growing conditions, enclosed in thick walls of glass. The only thing of real intrigue was the conservatory itself. The ceiling, the walls, the sections closing off sectors, and especially, the floor, were made from sturdy, jade tinted glass.

The floors were frightening to tread on, and Ron felt queasy. He crossed his arms across his narrow chest in an attempt to steady himself. He'd barely thought through his plan before setting out upon it, before the ripest time to take action passed. He would not let opportunity pass again.

News had come; Thropp was back in the Emerald City, like a fly caught within the dwindling, emerald flame of the Guard. This, Ron had thought, was the perfect opportunity to steal her back, chain her up to a wall, cut the damn witch open and show her what people were made of. But no. He'd set out himself on the rooftops, caught a glimpse of the Wicked Witch, her skin as pale green as the glass that enclosed him now, and she'd escaped still.

The entire Guard on watch earned fifty lashings the following morning- a new enforcement that was Ron's own bright idea. He'd attended just to revel in the occasional scream, imagining that it was really Thropp, her disgustingly discoloured back turning red with each crack of the whip.

Now he stood uneasily in the greenery – why was it there, anyway? – gripping his wand and reminding himself that Ronald Weasley was not a coward. Not anymore.

The room directly below him was clearly visible, and the people in it were shamelessly audible through the glass. In a place with so many secrets, one would think to soundproof the greenhouse.

"All I want now is a good rest," said the deep, permanently hoarse voice. It was Markku, his dark head viewed from a bird's eye view. It was an odd angle that made Ron stumble before becoming accustomed to it.

"Don't we all, Sir," replied a soldier rhetorically, his back stiffened, likely from the searing pain from the morning's activities.

"Do you think you could get me a report on all Lady Glinda's policies in the last two years concerning Animal Rights?" Markku asked tiredly, scratching the top of his head.

"Yes, Sir. I can speak to Jahaimson on the morrow and have it by the afternoon," the officer said. "If I may, what would you require the files for?"

"Nosey, nosey," Markku waggled a finger mockingly. "You shouldn't be asking questions. Well, if you _really_ want to know, such records should concern a press secretary and personal secretary overall to our Great Madame Morrible…AKA me. Who knows how deeply influenced the Witch influenced Lady Glinda- how it affected her decisions for Oz."

"With all due respect, Sir, Lady Glinda seemed a sweet thing to me when I was under her order," the officer blurted uncomfortably. Ron realized what the trouble was; the man wasn't shifting the weight on his back. The redhead smirked with triumph. "Didn't want to hurt a fly. Didn't want to see our guns."

"I'm sure," the dark haired man replied in a tone of voice that had to be an insinuating smirk. "But that is all in the nature of a clever spell, my brother. You see, someone like your Captain possesses a gift like that- very clever, indeed."

"Like our Captain, who lashes my entire squad for lack of compliance when the Witch was like the speed of lightning?"

Markku's head leaned in towards the other man's. "Not _my _Captain," he clarified in such a way that insulted Ron, rather than the officer, who seemed to jerk with temporary laughter.

The other man shifted. "Records on the morrow, Sir. I need to change these bandages."

"It's too bad they didn't get Weasley to do it. You'd barely have a scratch," laughed Markku as the officer left. The door closing was not heard from above, but Ron couldn't have been able to tell from the blood rushing in his ears, anyway. Anger was bubbling in his stomach like acidic rage, the purpose for standing in the absurd room becoming clearer and clearer, like clouds clearing out after a rainstorm.

It was not Markku's place to be poking fun at him, nor redirecting Morrible's opinion's to stray from the redhead's, as Ron originally came up for. That officer did not belong to the secretary, but the Captain of the Guard, and Markku was doing this on purpose.

A thought struck Ron. Maybe Markku had glanced up for an instant as Ron stumbled to keep his balance. Maybe he'd been spotted and this was all done to provoke him. The sudden terror went right through the redhead. He gripped his wand carefully, thinking analytically about the next few steps he was about to take, to make sure he'd be successful.

Markku seemed to be humming to himself now, moseying across the almost furniture-less room and rummaging through a cabinet. He would certainly be out of there before long, which meant Ron had to act fast.

The light coming through the glass, surrounding the redhead like a spectre, was turning darker as the minutes passed, the green tint casting eerie shadows. Ron reviewed his plan. He had too step back at precisely the right moment.

A rustling erupted to his right, and Ron's head snapped to meet the intrusion. He discovered nothing but the aftershock surf of a plant that resembled a man-sized fig. There was absolutely no one in the orangery with him; if garden gnomes existed in Ron's world, then there was no reason why they shouldn't be in such a fantastical land.

He cursed loudly, reasoning that he'd committed this act countless times before; it shouldn't make him jumpy anymore. From below, it sounded more like a sneeze with vowels. It attracted Markku's attention for a split second. His piercing bright eyes met Ron's for an instant before he looked away, then did a double take, catching sight of the wand in the redhead's hand. True, the images were blurred for both of them, but the sight was clear enough.

Ron swore again, this time louder, more freely, before making spastic, wide motions with his wand hand and shouting, "Corrumpo!" He made a wild jump backwards, slamming the door open with his body, pain shooting up his shoulder blades. The result was much quieter than the Death Eater would have anticipated, for his wand shot a breathy light, and the glass rooms simultaneously shattered.

The thick glass broke apart in large, ragged daggers, sailing downwards along with the conservatory's contents into the room below. The walls became giant, broken crystals of light green, the sounds of it hitting the other room a mighty crash.

They fell like water, almost in slow motion, an entire room reduced to nothing but dangerous rubble, plants twisting and breaking apart. A macabre scream rang out through the empty space, drawing into ragged cries, gurgling with blood, but only for a minute or so. Ron scrambled to his feet, deciding he wouldn't check if Markku was dead or alive until later, and scampered down the hall.

* * *

"We can't determine whether this was premeditated or purely by accident," Ron said, looking up from his crouched position. "But from what I gather, it looks like an accident. I mean, how else could it all break like that?"

The Captain of the Guard was called to the scene minutes after the explosion, bringing along a crew to scavenge the small room, now piled high with serrated sheets of glass and dilapidated plant life. Several officers were guarding the outside, and Madame Morrible was expected to arrive any minute.

"One might theorize it was a supporter of the Witch," offered an officer, the same one who had been there only minutes before, gazing mournfully upon the horrid scene.

"Yes, one might, wouldn't they?" Ron mumbled, returning back to what he was inspecting.

Markku's body lay under several sheets of glass, shattered in perfect constellation over his person. Ron swept it off with a gloved hand and peered at the damage. The dark haired man was riddled in cuts and scrapes, his hair matted with shards of glass and blood. Nearby lay several plants and their broken, cement pots.

A limb had been severed. A vine from a surviving plant had crept up one of the corpse's legs, tightly grasping onto it.

"Stay away from that quadrant, Sir," warned the assisting officer, holding out a hand to point to the thing. "There are tons in the village I come from; they'll cut off your circulation and squeeze you dead if you don't pot 'em."

"Then get someone in to take it away," Ron barked, shivering at the notion of a life-taking plant. Too much like Devil's Snare. "Immediately. That's…creepy."

The officer nodded and relayed the message to another solider at the door, who was staring up into space where the conservatory used to be.

"Look here," Ron said suddenly, beckoning the officer's attention. "This right here is probably what did him in."

"This is one dangerous palace, that's for sure," the officer commented darkly.

Ron peered closely, looking at the chunk of green glass, resembling ice, lodged in Markku's neck. It was stained crimson. The back of Markku's head rested on a busted pot, a backward angle that suggested the glass had cut cleanly through.

"Would you look a' this!" exclaimed an officer in a corner, bending down to pick up a tiny corpse. "A garden gnome! Heavens to Lurline, I haven't seen one a' these guys since I was a boy!"

**There won't be another update until two weeks from now; I'll be in California (or I might have just come back, but I won't have time to finish checking over the chapter 23 by Friday), so…yes. **

**Coming up: Glinda tries becoming a therapist.

* * *

**

**Here's the holiday gift for all of you. It takes place right after Glinda and Elphaba confess their feelings for each other in Darkness Rising in the winter. This is also very fluff heavy. Hope you like it!**

It was a snowy day. Not the kind of day where you could go out and have a snowball fight or build a snowman. It was the kind of day where you wanted to stay inside, huddled by a fire with a mug of hot chocolate and not come out of hiding until the snow melted away. Perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that it was a snowy blizzard. The snow came down in great sheets, clouding vision so that one could only see about five feet in front of them should he wander out onto the Hogwarts Grounds.

Elphaba was no exception. She was curled up on her couch by the blazing fire, fingering her wand and almost nodding off. Since it was Christmas break, she had nothing much to do; she mostly spent her time with Glinda, relishing their newly found relationship. As Elphaba was about to fall asleep, she heard the portrait door behind her open.

Elphaba mumbled a response and buried her head under her pillow. She had been _so_ close to falling asleep; she was rather annoyed at the disruption. Perhaps if she ignored it, whatever or whoever it was, it would go away. "Elphie!" The green witch looked up. "Glinda?"

"Are you alright, Elphie?" Glinda asked as she came to sit down on the end of the couch.

"Fine," Elphaba sighed. "Just tired. Really, I just want to sleep." She turned away, intent on falling asleep again.

There was blissful silence for a few seconds. And then…"Elphie?"

"Mmhmm?" Elphaba replied, not really paying attention.

"Elphie, I'm bored," Glinda whined. "Can we go outside?"

Elphaba propped herself up. "Look outside, Glinda. What do you think? If we go out, we'll be blown over by the wind. Not to mention the onslaught of snow. It's a blizzard outside."

Glinda sighed. "Then, what can we do?"

Elphaba shrugged. "Sleep," she suggested. She realized that she was still holding her wand at this point and gave it to Glinda, who had the easiest access to the coffee table. "Put this on that table, could you?"

Glinda took the wand and Elphaba closed her eyes. However, Glinda did not do as Elphaba asked. She glanced at Elphaba to make sure that the green witch wasn't watching, then pointed the wand at a bowl of candy lying on the table. She had been watching Elphaba use this wand for several months now and was curious as to how it worked.

"Elphie? One more thing," Glinda said. Elphaba gave a noncommittal grunt. Glinda took this as a sign to continue. "What's that Summoning spell again? The one that you use to get things?"

If Elphaba had been more awake, perhaps she would have figured out what Glinda wanted to do. However, her brain was muddled, so she merely mumbled, "Accio," and sighed, turning slightly in her sleep.

"Thanks." Glinda then pointed the wand at the bowl of candy and whispered, "Accio!" However, she thought that one piece would come flying towards her; she was unprepared for the entire bowl to zoom at her. She gave a tiny shriek and dove aside; the bowl flew towards Elphaba and whacked the green witch in the face.

Elphaba shot up, her eyes wild, ready for any possible chance of attack. Her eyes darted around the room, before landing on Glinda, who was holding the wand with a guilty look on her face. The green witch looked down at the fallen bowl of candy and back up at Glinda. At that moment, she understood what happened.

Glinda backed up as Elphaba came nearer, looking like she was reading to murder Glinda. "Sorry?" Glinda squeaked meekly.

"I'll show you sorry," Elphaba growled, advancing on Glinda, her eyes sparkling dangerously. With a small cry, she lunged at Glinda. The blonde gave a high-pitched squeal and tried to break free, while still laughing. Elphaba attempted to tickle Glinda, who squirmed away. Elphaba gave chase around the room, grinning in the most evil manner that she could.

Finally, she pinned Glinda down on the couch and began to attack her with tickles. "Okay, okay, I give!" Glinda finally called, throwing her arms up. "I'm sorry, Elphie! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Elphaba snickered down at her helpless victim. "I've got you now! Now, what shall be your punishment, hmm?"

"Oh, don't hurt me!" Glinda half-pleased. "I…I love you!"

Elphaba glared at Glinda. "No fair," she pouted. "Using my love for you against me."

"But it works," Glinda said smugly. Elphaba continued to glare. "Will you feel better if I kissed you?" Glinda asked.

"Much better," Elphaba replied, grinning, accepting Glinda's kiss and promptly getting flipped onto her back. "Oof!" She struggled against Glinda, but Glinda, who had still managed to keep Elphaba's wand with her, pointed it at Elphaba. "You wouldn't dare," Elphaba said.

"I'll contain my hand if you agree to my conditions," Glinda said.

"What conditions?" Elphaba asked, sighing.

"Love me," Glinda answered simply, putting the wand down.

"Always," Elphaba immediately returned. "I love you, Glinda Upland. Always."

**Happy holidays!**

**-Wolfie**


	23. Can't You Do a Friend a Favor

**The title from chapter twenty-two was from Bare. Congrats to Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Anne Flint, Courtney Dax, and Yank2324. **

**First update of 2008! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 23: Can't You Do a Friend a Favor**

Elphaba wasn't thrashing, but she wasn't sleeping soundly either. On occasion, her arms or legs would twitch, and she would turn her face from side to side. Glinda awoke purely from the sensation that something was wrong; the green witch wasn't sleeping close enough to her, and something like a moan had escaped her lips.

The blonde knew that Snape had ceased to provide Elphaba with Dreamless Sleep Potion, but she wasn't sure if any nightmares were still plaguing her girlfriend. The green witch said she would resolve the issues that frightened her sleep, but this was an example that she either didn't try or simply could not.

Glinda scooted over to hold Elphaba in her arms, resting her chin on top of the other woman's head and attempting to still her sudden thrashing. Upon the contact however, the green witch released a noise that sounded very much like a defensive curse.

"Shh, Elphie, everything is all right. You're safe. You'll never go back to that horrid place again," Glinda whispered soothingly, unsure of which place she was speaking of, be it the Riddle House or the mob in the Emerald City, or even some unspoken traumatic experience. Glinda didn't like to see Elphaba in this state because she knew the green witch would dislike herself in that moment.

She lightly drew stray strands of hair out of the green witch's face, planting a kiss on her head and murmuring words of encouragement. Elphaba began to stir with wakefulness before long, which caused the blonde to sigh with relief.

The first thing Elphaba noticed was that she was being squished into something. She breathed in the familiar scent of her girlfriend. She moved slightly, bringing her hands up to the arms that encircled her.

"Glinda," she mumbled her voice heavy with sleep.

"How are you feeling?" asked the blonde softly. "Nightmares, again? And please don't lie, Elphaba. You know I can tell when you are."

"It's nothing I can't handle," replied Elphaba, sitting up, despite the strong hold Glinda kept on her. "Perhaps I could ask Snape for another Dreamless Sleep Potion."

"You can't depend on those. Snape even said so," admonished the blonde. She felt comforted that the green witch leaned into her, but not under the current conditions.

"I know, but it's been helping me so far, and I can't be working through emotional problems when there's a battle to be won."

"Everything about this is emotional. From Hermione and Harry having to bring someone who used to be their best friend, who is now a complete monster, to Azkaban, to Madame Morrible, whom we all feel strongly about."

"You know what I mean," Elphaba said dryly.

"This is something you have to work through yourself and now," reminded the blonde, kissing the green witch's cheek lightly, before settling back onto the pillows. "There's got to be something going on in your head that's preventing your feeling better. Talk to me, Elphie."

"Come on, Glinda, wouldn't you rather go to be-" Elphaba began to protest, but Glinda sat up and crossed her arms coolly, anticipating it.

"Elphaba," she warned. The green witch knew better to argue with Glinda when she was obviously awake and demanding an answer.

"Well, I guess I'm just…worried about Morrible and Weasley. Everything that happened with Voldemort kind of sets me back." She attempted a smile, which became more of a grimace. "I like to call it stress."

"Is Dumbledore still in your dreams?" asked the blonde, frowning.

"On occasion," Elphaba replied, letting a sigh pass her lips. "When he feels like it. Maybe I still feel…guilty about his death. I mean, that curse was meant for…oh, but like I said, there's nothing for you to worry about. What we need to focus on now is our main objective: to get rid of Weasley and Morrible."

"I worry about you anyway," grumbled Glinda. The green witch crept to the edge of the bed and stood up, despite the powerful pull the blonde repeated to get her back onto the mattress.

"I'll be down in ten minutes or so. Make sure the others know, would you?" Elphaba turned and left the room without waiting for a response. Glinda crossed her arms and huffed, then scrambled out of the bed.

She was worried not only for Elphaba's mental health, but for their relationship. Therefore, she ignored the green witch's request and followed her instead. The corridors of the castle were silent and seemingly listening. Elphaba walked with direction, as though she knew exactly where she was going, and only stopped now and again to peer into a room.

Something familiar crept into the blonde as she followed the green woman, who was steadily making her way westward.

Finally, Elphaba reached the end of the corridor, which led to a particularly narrow winding staircase that took so many tall block steps it could have lead up to the heavens. She shuffled her weight on her feet, bringing them up mechanically, a reaction in this wing of the castle. There was a sturdy wooden door at the top of the staircase which Elphaba hauled open. Glinda took notice as to where they were only upon seeing it. She'd only ever been there once before.

Elphaba didn't shut the door completely, so the blonde figured she would not enter completely, aided by the shadows of traditionally constructed tower. She didn't know whether to alert her presence to the green witch or not; Glinda wanted to leave already. There was a memory, more distant than ever before, of gut wrenching cries and the feel of the Grimmerie placed into her hands for the first time. Glinda remembered clutching it like she would a person, left whimpering in the closet, which was clearly visible from this angle.

Elphaba herself was unsure of why she came. Perhaps an instinct, for she had stayed in the Western Tower many times before. She needed to hide away from prying eyes for a while, away from Glinda's constant questioning. It had been a feature she did not miss in their separation.

She walked over to the wide window frame, leaning her head against the cool metal. It was a refreshing sensation, and a small smile cracked onto her lips. "I can't go on like this," she muttered.

Those nightmares were driving her mad again; the only time she was alleviated was she was under the influence of Dreamless Sleep Potion. The green witch had no desire to be dependent upon anything, but Glinda was absolutely right.

This was becoming the past summer at Hogwarts all over again. It began with nodding off in the middle of the day, horrid bags appearing under her eyes, and soon, Elphaba was unable to function or focus on anything, and everyone knew why. Now, if that happened during their plight to stop Morrible, they would kick her back over the portal to England, Glinda included.

She couldn't let that happen.

"You're right, Elphie, you _can't _go on like this," Glinda said, deciding to break her secrecy. "I can't bear to see you like this."

Elphaba's heart rate was speeding along in surprise, her heart jumping up into her throat. "Glinda!" she shrilled. "I thought you were- why aren't you downstairs? I didn't hear you come up."

"Exactly. Your concentration is shot. You didn't even hear me come up, and I'm an Elephant," smirked the blonde.

Elphaba gave her a wry smile and attempted to cover up her concern. "You know, nothing has moved an inch since I left," she said, peering around the tower. All the furniture was in place. A thick, corroding layer of dust assaulted even the windowsill. "That chair, I left untucked," she pointed to the chair by a desk in the corner, slightly askew.

"I didn't want to move anything, and everyone else was afraid to," Glinda said nonchalantly.

"What about my…" Elphaba paused her train of thought, momentarily losing it as the entire thought struck her. The jovial, smiling simian face of Chistery appeared in her mind, clearer than she ever remembered. "What about my Monkeys?"

The blonde shook her head, curls swaying in perfect unison. Her expression was that of guilt, and perhaps upset. "Oh, Elphie, they all just left. I tired to find Chistery at least-"

"I doubt anyone would want the pet of a Wicked Witch," Elphaba mumbled, almost upset. Glinda noticed and began to advance towards the green witch, stubbing her shoe for an instant on the – now, very obvious- trapdoor.

"You can't afford to lose your concentration with Weasley on the loose." She guided the green witch to sit on the trapdoor, and Elphaba complied. The furniture was much too dusty to attempt comfort, and the trapdoor was a familiarity to both. "I'm not saying it's your fault, but we need your concentration…we've got to figure this out."

Elphaba scowled. "We?" she sputtered rhetorically. "This has nothing to do with you, these dreams. I can work them out on my own just fine."

She hadn't meant to sound abstemious, but it was certainly the way the green witch felt inside. Yet Glinda didn't seem moved by the snippy response, but rather, fueled with determination for whatever it was she had planned.

"Since I left Hogwarts, what of your nightmares have you been able to get rid of? What have you accomplished?" The words hung in the air like humidity, unwelcome but truthful, much like mugginess. "You can be angry with me as much as you like, but we're going to work this out _together_, here and now."

"I'm perfectly certain that-" Elphaba opened her mouth, managing a few strongly pronounced words before the blonde cut her off with the daunting, regal voice likely reserved for public communication.

"The longer you stay quiet, the longer we stay here," the blonde said sternly, although her expression was soft and inviting. In an instant, it flickered. "Start talking."

Elphaba peered up at Glinda through tired eyes, resembling an outwitted serpent knowledgeable of its defeat. The blonde wouldn't budge, and from her expression, wouldn't let the green witch, either. "Guilt," Elphaba finally said, complying meagerly.

"A what?"

"Guilt. I've been feeling guilty," clarified the green witch, suddenly uncomfortable with sitting on her knees.

"It wasn't you who called that curse. It was Weasley." Glinda shook her head, almost disbelievingly. "You didn't make Dumbledore jump in front of you."

"I suppose I don't like the idea of someone like- anyone, actually- making a sacrifice for me. I can't even pay him back now." There was a distinct image of Dumbledore that would never escape the green witch, when he was practically begging her to reveal herself to her friends. Now she had, but the Headmaster kept coming.

"That's foolish, Elphie." The blonde reached out to touch Elphaba gently. "He didn't want you to feel like this. Otherwise, what was the point?"

Elphaba mulled the rhetoric over in her mind before continuing on, genuinely mulling it over as though it had a legit answer. "I hadn't done anything wonderful to be worth saving; I wasn't even from his world. When Fiyero and I went to England…well, we just built up what we owed _him_."

"In his own little way, he loved you," countered the blonde. "You did so much for him, Elphie, and for the war. You came up with the solution to it all with Harry, didn't you? You became a victim, almost a," she paused, searching for the proper term, "_casualty_ because of your involvement."

"That means nothing. I was involved because I wanted to be," grumbled the green witch, not admitting that she was beginning to feel lighter. As long as she could tell Glinda these things, the blonde would always be there to help.

"You're unbelievably stubborn. Dumbledore owed you more than you know. But I don't think that's why he did what he did," Glinda said squarely, meeting Elphaba's gaze and holding it to get her point across. "Dumbledore cared about you. You weren't just a favorite. You were a loved one."

The green witch sighed a little, exasperated some by the conversation. "Maybe," she half-heartedly agreed, looking around the room. "I can come to terms with that, but I keep having these dreams. I ran out of Dreamless Sleep Potion when we came to Oz, so-"

"You haven't slept a full night since?" Glinda finished for Elphaba, her compassionate gaze hardening with disappointment.

"It's not as though any of us have had much time," Elphaba replied, smiling wryly despite herself. "After being captured, I discovered it was quite difficult to manage falling asleep while chained to a wall in a foreign place."

Glinda looked at her girlfriend, and then turned away, trying to hide a small smile she couldn't suppress. "You and me, both," she agreed.

The green witch snapped her head up sharply. "Weasley chained you to a Merlin-damned wall?" She tried to keep from raising her voice.

"Oh no, no, Elphie, they tied me to a chair." The smile slipped from Glinda's face, but she was attempting calmness. You were a special case." She breathed quietly for a moment, silence enveloping the room, before looking up again. "I suppose the most you've slept was when you were unconscious?"

"About," confessed Elphaba.

"Look, here's what we'll do." The green witch looked as though she was about to object, but a glare from Glinda was enough to quiet her. "I'll ask Snape for…maybe two or three nights' worth of Sleeping Potion so that everyone can take care of business."

"You know, I lov-" Elphaba smiled with relief, but the blonde held up a small hand abruptly to continue speaking.

"In the meanwhile, you and I are going to talk some more. There's a reason why I'm with you, and it's not the green," declared Glinda. "All the time," she added, letting out a strangled cough in attempts to cover up sudden giggling. "I don't want you to get sick, Elphie, and that's what'll happen. We will work through it, I promise."

Elphaba was watching the blonde speak, her expression relaxing as Glinda went on. When she finished, the green girl leaned in and chastely kissed a palely colored cheek. "Thank you," she said softly. "That's what I needed to hear."

She felt Glinda smile, turning her face and bringing the green witch down to lock their lips. Glinda struggled for a moment on whether she should remain sitting or lean back onto her elbows. The touch was familiar now, comfortably as opposed to disappointingly, the satin feel of another's lips on the green witch's electric from the, lately, lacking activity.

Elphaba brushed Glinda's face with her fingertips and then broke free. "We should go," she said in mock earnest, grinning. "The others are probably waiting for us."

"That's right. We wouldn't want to keep them waiting," Glinda leaned back onto her elbows finally, grinning coyly at the other woman.

* * *

"If Morrible's taken over, then it'll be especially hard to get back into the Emerald City," Fiyero complained. "More so now that you've managed to do it once. The old hag will have put guards at every possible station."

"We could always lure them into something," offered Harry. "Proffer them a better perspective."

Fiyero rejected the Boy-Who-Lived immediately after he spoke. "No. A member of the Guard will carry their own convictions, but…they'd never go against an order." He caught Elphaba's eye as he spoke. He winked.

They were gathered in the dining hall again. Fiyero took his respective seat at the foot of the long table, Hermione on his right, and Harry to his left. Snape had refused to sit, clutching the newspaper in his fist, on the edge of fury that they had yet to create a plausible plan to execute in the name of 'saving Oz'.

"We could stop time," Hermione began, pressing her fingers to her lips in thought so hard that her speech was muffled, thinking sourly of her own idea. "Then undo it all once we're in the Emerald Palace."

"No, that's too risky to cast, and even if we ever make it to the Palace," Elphaba shook her head negatively. Another train of thought popped into her mind. "Say we did go with Harry's idea, with Weasley as their Captain. Wouldn't they be looking for something better? I mean, if I weren't around."

"They know who we are now." Hermione motioned around the room, the high ceilings and wide walls making them feel mitigated by way of grandeur. "Even if we presented Glinda to take over once they helped us, you're still a deeper running memory of treachery – no offence, Fae – than Morrible. And besides, Fiyero was Captain of the Guard once. He knows what he's saying."

"Lurline knows I have no idea on how to get _into_ the City," Glinda said, her hands folded neatly on the table as she surveyed her friends, "but to infiltrate the Palace is something you could do better with me around."

"That's a perfect idea!" Hermione's ears perked as she leaned towards the blonde. "You ran the Palace for a good while, didn't you?"

"A good enough time to know you need a strong hold to prevent permeating forces like us," smiled the blonde, narrowly catching the proud grin that had spread across Elphaba's face. "The article says Markku was appointed press secretary, as Madame Morrible once was, as well as secretary of any other affair. He's not exactly the _brightest_, is he?"

"He's adherent to Morrible, so he's bound to have a few loose screws," snorted Elphaba.

"It'll be easier, with extensive planning, that is," Glinda spoke evenly, as if developing the plan as she went along, "to make it through the ladder up to Morrible if we slip by Markku."

"Does it say anything about me in the paper?" Fiyero asked suddenly. "I don't think they know I'm still around. If I show up, pretending to come back to face the Wicked Witch, maybe the Guard will believe me."

"You ran off with me the first time around! And besides, what then? Contradict Weasley and be appointed as Captain of the Guard again?" Elphaba raised an eyebrow at him.

The Winkie prince fumbled with his hands, meeting the green witch's gaze strongly. "Perhaps," he suggested, "we would do better with a long term attack, rather than an immediate one. I mean, you all resigned for a reason."

"Fiyero, you couldn't!" Glinda's voice raised an octave as she cried out. "You were miserable as Captain last time- and now, trying under Morrible…"

"Those were different circumstances last time," the Winkie argued, looking at Glinda apologetically.

"I won't let you make a sacrifice that huge." Elphaba interrupted the small look Fiyero and Glinda were sharing, knowing full well what they were trying to communicate.

Last time they were both looking for her.

"You've got responsibilities now," she continued, flicking a hand towards Hermione. "I'm certain there are other options pertaining to Glinda's idea. We'll just have to be sneakier, rather than deceitful."

"If you will, I would like to skip ahead a few strategies," Snape interrupted, whipping the newspaper onto the table and leaning his hands against it to level with the others. "What happens if we do defeat Morrible? Oz will need a leader, and I'm certain you still won't be eligible for redemption, Fae."

"W-what do you-" Glinda stared at the Potions Master, her expression not quite fearful.

"He means we won't be together anymore," Elphaba told her gravely. "Again."

"I mean, you'll become a bleeding wreck," hissed the pale man, looking directly at the green witch. There was concern written on his harsh features. "It's not like the rest of us want to handle you like that. What would be easier is to have you go back to England, Fae, Glinda included, unless we need her."

"No," Elphaba objected darkly.

"If Elphaba's back in England, all we'd have to do is infiltrate the Emerald Palace for Weasley, and bring him back into custody of Azkaban." Fiyero sat up in his seat, suddenly interested in the concept.

"Or better yet, we could let Ron be Oz's problem," Hermione said tiredly. "He used to be our friend…I don't want to throw him in Azkaban, no matter what he's done. Don't give me that look, Fae, I would never _forgive_ him for what he did to you," she added quickly, shaking off Elphaba's suddenly offended expression.

"He came here for you, Elphie-" Glinda started to say.

"For the Grimmerie, I think," Elphaba said fiercely. "He'd find a worse objective if he knows we're gone."

"Yes, but what could he do if we just closed the portal? I doubt he'd remember where it is, but if he should, we could always close it _for good_," emphasized the Potions Master.

"And just leave Oz subject to Morrible? Severus, you don't understand what she can do," Elphaba thumped her fist onto the table angrily. "She's not Voldemort, but she is _Oz's version of him_, and her intentions are just as crippling. There is an entire race out here that needs protection, and another that needs education. We can't just leave them vulnerable."

"You mean, _you _can't leave them vulnerable," retorted Snape, seeming grave and satisfied all at once. He leaned across the table, his pale nose facing Elphaba exactly as they exchanged words. "It's like you said. There are two entire races that got along without you just fine before. You gave them a push off- isn't that enough?"

"That's not the same. They had Glinda before, and now you're asking me-"

"To spend a good life with her!" hissed the greasy haired man, his arm sailing out to indicate the blonde, who blushed and put her head down. "You refer to England as your home, and now you have the opportunity to leave the Wicked Witch of the West behind. That woman has fought so hard for you, and you're still willing to separate from her for a population of boors!"

"Better boors than bigots!" roared the green woman, sliding out of her chair to meet to the Potion Master's challenge.

"Oh, sit down, Fae. And leave her alone, Snape," Hermione beckoned. She didn't seem moved by anything the other two were saying, and so they both complied and took seats on opposite ends of the table, silently fuming. "It's obvious you're not going to back down, are you?" she asked Elphaba rhetorically.

Snape mumbled something like "stupidity", but the bushy haired witch raised her hand to him indifferently.

"It's a hero complex," she said simply. "Harry's like that, too. You aren't obligated to fix this problem, Fae, and half of Oz hates you, but you're still willing to sacrifice a bloody lot to help."

"I am so _not_-" Harry objected.

"Are you kidding? You hardly belonged to the Wizarding World in our first year, and you went ahead and got yourself shoved into the Hospital Wing for all of us," smirked the woman. "Not to mention when Ginny was possess-"

"Okay, you made your point," grumbled the Boy-Who-Lived embarrassedly.

"It's not as though I don't want to go back to England," Elphaba said, casting a quick glance at Glinda, whose face came back into view. "But I know Morrible more than she thinks, and I could care less where she is, just as long as it's not ruling Oz."

"Or out in public," Glinda added, her delicate features crinkling earnestly. "I put her away for a reason. I don't care when we make up our minds, just as long as we take care of the Emerald Palace first. Shouldn't Mrs. Weasley at least get to see her son?"

"She would love him no matter who he mutilated," said Harry.

"If the entire world was like that, he'd be getting away with butchery," Elphaba said, untucking from her chair to leave the dining hall. "So, it's settled, then."

"We're all staying until Morrible's out of authority," Snape summarized. "It's not as though you aren't an asset, Fae. It's merely that this Morrible is both the rock and the hard place."

"I know," sighed the green witch.

"See how she just heaved a sigh?" Hermione leaned over and whispered to Fiyero, both of them watching as Elphaba left the hall. "That means she accepts her burdens and knows what she's got to give up. It's like I said- hero complex."

"If I sigh, could I be a hero, too?" Fiyero asked wryly, his expression mirroring his feelings of incomplete amusement under the circumstances of their discussion.

The bushy haired witch just leaned back against her chair and cast the Winkie prince a funny little smile that told Fiyero he didn't need to sigh at all.

**Coming up: Back to the city for Fiyero and Snape…could be trouble…**

**Wolfie**


	24. Give Them What They Want

**The title from chapter twenty-three was from A Connecticut Yankee. Congrats to: Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Dee Zeno, Anne Flint, and Yank2324.**

**It's been so long. Do you still remember me? **

**Chapter 24: Give Them What they Want**

No one suspected him. Flipping through the newspaper for major headlines and names, Ron couldn't find a single article that expressed an accusation against him. It seemed the entire city was basing their conviction entirely on what Madame Morrible said, and the redhead wondered if it had been this way also with Glinda. What a magical land this was, when expurgation was necessary if the truth became too ugly.

"Madame Morrible has requested your presence, Sir." The statement was followed by a forced clearing of the throat. Ron looked up to the front door. The messenger was standing nervously, not daring to pass over the frame of the door.

Ron sighed, wiping nonexistent sweat from his face with a calloused palm. "Be that as it may, the bigger question is who allowed you to speak without knocking. A universal signal, really."

As he spoke, Ron stood and prepared to leave, advancing towards the messenger with his last words, a daunting position of his shoulders that he learnt through observing other Death Eaters. If he had his wand strapped to his side, and was experiencing a less than glorious day, then the messenger would have either a shock or meet a cruel end.

"She wishes your presenceuh… Sir, in the…the, uh, Throne Room," stuttered the messenger, no more than just departing from boyhood, and by the crest at his breast, a new recruit for the redhead.

Ron stared at the messenger and his tense expression, deciding a terse nod of response. "Let Morrible know I'll be there shortly," he replied, politely as he could. The other man took off down the hall at the soonest sign of dismissal, scuffling a walk at first, before breaking into a sprint and turning the corner.

Perhaps it was a sudden intensity around his Gale Force, a suspicion of Ron's guilt; after all, who _could_ collapse an entire conservatory, besides Thropp? It wasn't as if she was seen across the sky, cackling as she went. But then, Ron faltered, surmising that he was either being cagey, that through his hard punishment, there was a sort of devotion from his men.

Speaking of which, that day brought a message from the squad he had sent (really, though, almost literally had to force through the door) to Kiamo Ko, at least at a safe vicinity. There were only two or three of them, proving cowardly in a disinterest, or fear, of going any closer. The one consistency they reported was intelligent movement throughout the old castle. Not enough to categorize an individual, but it was human, at least.

_Now, without Markku to set distraction_, Ron thought cheekily, nodding towards one of his men passing in the hallway, _persuading Morrible wouldn't be a problem. She was ready to say the word last time, if not for the words of a dead man. _

This, he figured, would somehow become a race of time. The more time Ron spent on Morrible, mulling over details instead of enforcing them, meant Thropp and her friends would be able to prepare more thoroughly for the inevitable, and experience told the redhead that option would make things difficult: Thropp, with her luck, and Harry, with his foolishly courageous deeds.

Walking to the Throne Room, Ron reasoned that he not burst through the door angry as his scowl expressed. After all, he shouldn't be irate- this was a new beginning upon a new beginning. This would be when it all really fired up. Finding himself wearing a neutral face, Ron pushed open the doors to the Throne Room. He was greeted by the grandeur of the place and a booming voice.

"Ah, Weasley, good day!" Morrible was sitting at the foot of the large table, immediately making swooping gestures for Ron to sit as well. He gingerly sat at the other end.

"You wanted to speak, Madame?" he asked, wishing to go forth with business as soon as they could without ploughing through formalities.

It seemed as though Morrible felt the same way, but she could never pass up the opportunity for theatrics. "Tragic business, really, with Markku's death," she began bluntly, a regretful tone in her voice. Her eyebrow shot up, the other almost upside down in a display of grief, and she looked accusingly at Ron for a split second. The redhead didn't blink, catching it. "These walls – so poetic! – coming right down on his head. A sad end, but really, how much of a hindering may he cause through a fight to keep sovereignty? In way of that, one might even say it was Miss Elphaba who did it."

There was something in that one look, an obvious accusation, one Morrible intended him to see, although it made Ron second guess his own eyes. The old woman _knew_ it wasn't Thropp who murdered Markku, nor purely by incident, yet however, she did not mention it verbally, keeping the issue silent. Buried.

"Perhaps now," Morrible continued, loudly, causing Ron's legs to jerk in surprise beneath the table, "now would be an excellent time to let Misses Elphaba and Glinda know they are far from off the hook. By this time, maybe they've news of Markku, and think it's a weak spot for my government."

She paused for a moment, grabbing the Grimmerie with as much grace a woman of her presence could, leafing through the ancient pages.

Ron observed her concentration. "I quite agree, Madame," he said. "Like we discussed before, now still remains the ripest time to strike. They wouldn't have much of a plan yet, probably just hustling their way through."

Madame glanced up at Ron a few times while flipping through a chunk of the book. "Weasley, how do you intend to capture Miss Elphaba, again? I know that she's clever, and from what I hear, has become quite the entity of power. The same kind- _Disappear in a kite-like form?_ No_, lightning storm_. Useful," she grumbled as she read, then remembered her train of thought. "Oh yes, the same power as you, I wager."

"She'll be weakened by the mob," Ron shrugged. "A small point in our plans proves beneficial, after all. She also has an unfortunate habit of underestimating her opponents, especially me."

"Wonder why," mumbled Morrible, then turned her head up to give her full attention to the redhead.

Ron continued. "What I had in mind is that the rest of them be drawn away and preoccupied by yourself and the Gale Force. If I get Thropp alone, that is when the shot will be clearest."

"And on the subject of Miss Glinda?" Morrible ventured further, but Ron smiled; he was prepared. "Don't think for a moment she would leave Elphaba's side. That last escapade proved it well."

"It wouldn't be wise to underestimate her, either," smirked Ron, thinking of mentioning Morrible's imprisonment, but thinking better of it. "But you see, she becomes more of a hinder than a help when it comes down to Thropp and I. There are two things she'll have to contend with: me… and the safety of her _girlfriend_."

"Clever boy," Morrible nodded approvingly, a smile forming on her rouge-painted lips. "I disagree right away for staging damsel-in-distress strategy for Miss Glinda, but a simple threat, Weasley...something small might set her off."

"Just as long as the others are held off and busy, Madame, it should work," concluded the redhead patiently.

Morrible cast her eyes down at the Grimmerie, almost as though to consult it for the answers. Ron hoped not; the damned book might not like him very much. "Do what you have to," she finally said, dismissively for Ron to leave.

She did not mention that his trustworthiness as an advisor was neither dwindling, nor that she completely respected his major goal. There was a distinction between true guilt and nervousness. Now, with what seemed to be both their common goals coming forth to be completed, this idea Ron had of capturing Thropp, this almost obsessive behaviour caused her to falter. In the face of obsession, sometimes the best-laid plans could turn to ruins.

* * *

Footsteps echoed back and forth through the dining hall. Elphaba's boots hit the floor with a hard thump, and she looked worriedly at her friends before joining them on the carpet. She was peering over at what they were collecting to pack in their bags, sneakily, almost as though she wasn't supposed to know. 

More information was required if they were to stop Morrible; Snape and Fiyero were going back into the Emerald City. When they were strongest and Morrible was weakest- they needed to find a link in the chain. The green witch argued to tag along with no avail, and it seemed Fiyero was finally putting his foot down.

"Be careful, all right?" Elphaba greeted anxiously, her eyes quickly scanning the contents of Fiyero's bag. "Weasley will have done something drastic since I went back to the city. He'll be waiting."

"Yes, mother," Fiyero agreed slowly, rhythmically, wanting to lighten the almost tangible dark cloud that was following the green witch. He and Snape cast cold glares at one another when Elphaba turned her sight, neither looking forward to the close kinship they'd have to share that day.

Snape wore a permanent scowl, ready to leave, one polished shoe tapping with impatience. "Hurry, Tiggular, or don't come at all."

Fiyero ignored the Potion's Master and continued on. "Honestly, Elphaba, you're the one who snuck away in the middle of the night."

"Those were unique circumstances," defended the green witch. She began to tap her foot in time with Snape, then though better of it and crossed her lanky arms. "When will you two be back, do you think?" She shifted her weight. "Just so, if there's a problem… you know… and we should come back to help if… uh…"

"The faith you invest in us is astoundingly trusting," Snape commented sarcastically, slithering past his words and casting the green witch a neutral expression. "Expect us back by sundown. Any longer would be foolish."

Fiyero opened his mouth to comment, but the Potions Master viciously gripped the Winkie Prince's upper arm, and they Apparated away in a small pop. Elphaba blinked spastically and turned around, nodding a silent good luck. In the doorway, two bodies were laughing back and forth. Harry and Hermoine had bags slung over their shoulders, looking prepared to dive into a scuffle.

"Are you two going somewhere?" asked Elphaba bluntly.

"We're going to explore the area," Hermione answered matter-of-factly, in an almost regal British tone that suggested she not be beleaguered. "Hopefully we'll be able to find use of our resources, find them _at all_. If Ron shows up unannounced, we might have an alternative safe place to hide."

"Would you like me to come with you?" Elphaba asked, almost rhetorically. "I haven't had the greatest chance to figure things out, but I do know quite a bit about the grounds. It couldn't hurt to show you around."

"Now, Fae, would you really want to leave sweet, little Glinda here all by her lonesome?" Harry smirked. The bushy haired witch had to duck away and cough out her laughter at the wizard's incredibly suggestive tone of voice. "I'm sure you two can find loads of ways to amuse yourselves."

Elphaba narrowed her eyes into slits, tuttering out sarcastic laughter. "Might I suggest you find potion resources, as well. There are tons of plants and things just growing around unkempt grounds."

"I so wanted to have a look at that lean-to by the west tower," admitted Hermione. "Would you know what's in it?"

"Broomsticks," replied the green witch, her gaze utterly earnest. "Lots and lots of insurance. Six-year-old bananas- don't ask. Potions ingredients, too, I think. I can't see why you won't let me-"

"You could either mope around the castle all day, or make use of your… private time with Glinda," winked Harry. He let out a sigh to buy time, removing his spectacles and cleaning them on his tee shirt. "We're giving you a great opportunity. Don't waste it."

He gave Elphaba a wide, toothy grin before dragging Hermione away. "Have fun!" he called as they left, the sound of the old door shuffling open and closed emanating down the corridor.

Elphaba rolled her eyes at their immaturity, considering following them in panther form, half to watch out for their safety from spies potentially sent to scout the area, and half to scare their pants off. She decided against it, feeling the weight of her legs exaggerate from lack of sleep.

Taking time to reach upstairs to her room, the green witch reflected on the uselessness she felt. The times that brought the wrath of her friends was only done for their safety, and to increase their chances against Morrible. But her friends, whether intentional or not, collectively brought down on her an iron fist. With her status as Wicked Witch of the West very much alive, they didn't want to be as reckless as she had.

They would keep her cooped up in Kiamo Ko until they were ready to battle, or Weasley was ready to battle. It didn't matter who initiated the fight, really.

Just as long as her side won.

Attempting sleep seemed futile, as Elphaba flopped onto her bed and forced her eyes shut. They rebelled against her better wishes, as though set on springs. She hadn't seen Glinda all morning, and was beginning to wonder if the blonde had run off somewhere without her, too.

The green witch was staring at the walls in her room, simply wondering, so bored as to hold up a long hand to inspect translucent green fingernails, which weren't in the best shape, when a soft knock came at the door.

"Elphie?" a small voice entreated from the hall. "Are you all right- I mean… can I come in? Or do you want to be alone?"

Elphaba gazed up to meet eyes with Glinda, who might as well have been quietly shuffling for all her nervousness. The green witch nodded towards the bed. "Come in," she replied. "Honestly, I could use the company."

Glinda grinned.

"You know," Elphaba began, almost sarcastically striking up conversation, "I could live here."

Glinda snorted, then pranced all the way over to the bed, taking a seat on her knees, curls bobbing. "You would be the type to say that," she smiled. "But there's too much dust, and it's always falling from the ceiling in the dining hall."

"Okay, fine then. You know," the green witch tried, "I could do with a good book."

"Only you would be the type to pick reading a book in a stuffy old library when it's nice outside," objected the blonde, grinning at the idea of this new game. "I prefer _fun _activities."

Elphaba switched her eyesight from the ceiling, dark and shadowy from height, to Glinda's inviting expression, and back. "You know," she began again, "I always wanted to know what it was like to have power like Glinda the Good."

"That's an overrated conquest," Glinda said, shooting down the idea once again. She shook her head. "In a society as Oz's, with a pretty basic economy and traditionalist roles in authority, for instance, in the Gale Force, or my own family repeating my ruling, if I still was."

The blonde took a breath, satisfied with her answer, thinking it insightful. Elphaba's angular eyebrows were raised in question at the blonde, never having spoken on the subject before. Perhaps Glinda's education went farther than first speculated, or the green witch had chosen to believe.

"You know," Elphaba said, "I could kiss you."

"That would be nice," Glinda replied softly, raising a hand to flip her hair, or make herself seem more appealing somehow, but Elphaba swiftly leaned up and captured her lips.

Glinda smiled into the kiss, her head growing dizzy from an eventual lack of air and the positively thrilling contact. They parted for an instant, before drawing back onto one another again, Elphaba moaning slightly as she was pulled over the blonde.

* * *

Unlike Elphaba's predication, all of Oz did not explode when Fiyero and Snape crept back into the City, careful to slink along back streets and beneath hopefully unsuspicious hoods in crowded areas. They had found their way into the central market, only been having seen by one little girl, who didn't seem to care there were two more people in the City seemingly like her, and everyone else she'd ever encountered. Fiyero did earn a stern, clean rap on the head for it, though. 

The market didn't seem any different than what it had been during their last visit. In fact, it might have even been less anxious, with the wait of Weasley's arrival and announcement. The people of Emerald City didn't seem to outwardly care that their new ruler was once a heavily guarded old hag in Southstairs. The newspaper was covering business as usual, as if Glinda had never left power.

"Don't buy those," Fiyero said out of the corner of his mouth, watching as Snape reached out for a melon. They were also required to collect some sort of food, and overhearing, questioning, and buying in the market would blend them in perfectly. They would become a part of the market.

"And why not? They're perfectly ripe," retorted Snape, scowling through his hood, and placing the melon in a bag defiantly.

Fiyero sighed loudly and forced his had into the bag, pulling out the melon and weighing it in the palm of his hand. "Just as I thought." He smirked triumphantly. "Tt certainly isn't ripe."

"It's bruised and soft under the skin," Snape pointed out angrily, reaching to snatch it from the Winkie, who childishly held back the fruit.

"No. They're from the land I came from. I used to pick these things," argued Fiyero. "Just because it looks ripe does not mean it's actually ripe."

"Idiot, do you really want to stand here and argue about melons? There is more important work to be done," Snape hissed, leaning in to chastise the Winkie.

Fiyero frowned and set down the melon. "You're right." He turned around to move on, but not before spying Snape steal back the same exact melon in his peripheral vision.

* * *

"This newspaper will suffice for now," Snape was saying, folding up the papers and stuffing them in his robes. "They mark the cause and publicity behind Markku's death. Do you really suppose he was killed by a conservatory?" 

"Why are you asking me?" Fiyero looked at the Potions Master incredulously.

"I though we had a keen understanding that you knew more than me in this place," shrugged the greasy-haired man, smirking. "Do conservatories usually kill the innocent and unsuspecting in Oz?"

Fiyero glared at his companion, knowledgeable of the sarcasm. They were walking along near the City gates, ready to leave. Their scavenge for information had been no more fruitful than Elphaba's attempt at suicide not a few days beforehand, mainly for their lack of cooperation. Their squabbling scared off one man who seemed to have enough information, and Fiyero had to hold back Snape from throwing a curse at an elderly shopkeeper who though they were lovers.

"You there!"

The two stopped walking, the foreign voice gruff and obviously directed at them, being the place was devoid of any other citizens. Turning around, they were met with the rough, scar-ridden face of a Gale Force officer, his belt armed with a pistol. Fiyero stiffened, recognising him as a man personally trained by himself before he had run off with Elphaba.

The Winkie Prince wanted desperately to go up to this man, who was once his friend, and shake his shoulders. "I've always been a good man," he would say. "Why don't you believe I'm trying to do good now?"

Instead, Snape hissed at him, "Now is the time where we pretend to know what we're doing, Tiggular."

Fiyero nodded solemnly and waited for the officer to approach them, mentally calculating how far away they were from the City gate...and free reign from the anti-Apparation shield.

"Now, wha' would you two be doin' here at th' end a' th' day, huh?" asked the officer, not unkindly.

"Nothing in particular, Sir, just taking in the City," fibbed the Winkie.

The officer looked at Fiyero oddly, who was nothing but a hooded character. "Th' City's tha' way." He pointed to the noisy central area, a good walk away from them. "Could you remove th' hoods, there, boys, so I can see your faces?"

"A shock, isn't it, the news of Madame Morrible's secretary's death," Snape overlapped the command, wanting to step on Fiyero's toe for not covering them well enough. "Do you really think it was just a bit of glass?"

The officer grunted, momentarily forgetting the matter of their identification. "It looks like th' work a' th' Witch, don' it?" he pointed out smugly. "Tha' was magic, tha' was. Evil magic."

"Don't tell me there are no other sorcerers in the City?" Fiyero asked rhetorically.

"Well, there's th' Cap'in a' Th' Guard," the officer blurted dumbly. "He's a righ' tempered one. But, th' Witch's bound to have dunnit."

All the while Fiyero and Snape were asking questions, their feet were shuffling in the direction of the gate. They were acting as a team, which they would never admit worked so well, to get away.

The officer didn't notice their slow escape, but remembered that their faces were still concealed. "It's policy now, to remove yer hoods. We got Witch followers t' get," he told them sternly. "Now take 'em off."

Fiyero coughed awkwardly, thinking of what to say. He could practically feel Snape grimacing beside him. "Uh… you take _your _hood off, first."

"I said you take 'em off, you take 'em off first," the officer said solidly, not noticing the lack of hood on his uniform.

"How do we even know you're an officer, Sir? If we complied, that would be an invasion of privacy," Fiyero babbled, silently praying they would reach the gates sooner. His and the Potion Master's feet were shuffling unevenly, dust discolouring their boots. The gates were close.

"Alrigh', fine." The officer sighed exasperatedly, not wanting to cause unnecessary trouble with civilians. He reached behind his head to pop down his hood, only just discovering it did not exist. "Hey!" he cried. "Wha' are you doin'?"

Fiyero and Snape finally reached the end of the gates, and on a loud count to three, they made a break for it away from the officer, who might not have been very intelligent, but was swift in the legs.

"Get back here!" hollered the officer, his tone suggesting reckless fury.

Snape's hood had flown from his face during their sprint, but it did not matter whether they were concealed or not. It seemed the officer recognised them now, and was hollering at the top of his lungs for backup. Not being far from the City, more officers would more than likely drop their stations to help.

"Slow down, Tiggular, we need to Apparate!" shouted Snape, heaving for breath. His age was a disadvantage in getting away, several leaps behind the Winkie Prince, who was panicking and taking giant bounds.

"Do it, already!" Fiyero shouted back, halting for an instance, as both Snape and the officer, whose pistol was drawn, gained on him. Snape grabbed onto the Winkie's hood. A few shots were aimed as the two men Apparated away. The awe of magic ability shocked the officer for an instance as they disappeared, and his hand faltered with the gun, letting Snape and Fiyero escape without incident.

_Damn_, he thought. Weasley was not going to be happy about this.

**Coming up: Maybe there's actually way for Elphaba and company to defeat Morrible…**

**Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. I had it typed up for several months already, but I definitely thought I'd posted it.**

**Chapter 25 is half-way written. But it's been half-way written for about two months now, so it doesn't mean much. **

**And thanks to Yank2324 for sending me constant PMs to remind me to write/update.**

**Wolfie**


	25. What Would You Do?

**The title from chapter twenty-four was from Dirty Rotten Scoundrals. Congrats to Kalacyn, Raiko Toho, Dark-Angel-874, and Anne Flint. **

**So…welcome Sparky Heffely onboard as slave-driver…um…whoops. I meant beta. Really. She's the reason this chapter was done when it was (last night). Crazy Heffy child. **

**Chapter 25: What Would You Do?**

Elphaba felt older than she was. Used battle tactics from the last war and goading ideas left unutilized spun through her mind as she scrounged for a compatible way to deal with Morrible and Ron. Her one hinderance was that nobody in Kiamo Ko knew when this impending battle would strike, or whether they would gain the upper hand by striking the first, damning blow. However, all this second-guessing only served to muddle her concentration, and therefore, Elphaba tried not to think on such things.

She had been resigned to stay inside the castle, not even to wander around in her panther form, for fear that Morrible might have sent the Gale Force to observe their routine. _If so_, Harry had explained sternly, _we want to show them absolutely nothing of what we know. We want to keep our biggest weapon confined_.

As surprising as it was though, hiding out in the castle's illustrious library with extensive collections spanning across the room only intensified Elphaba's anxiety. Her subconscious comparisons of the impending battle to the previous one were enough to cause fatal errors if and when she and Morrible were finally face to face.

Still, Elphaba knew that no matter how Morrible arrived, they would face each other nose to nose. Alone. Assuming that the retired Headmistress would be armed with the Grimmerie, the green witch was pretty sure that she could gain the ancient tome back into her possession. The real conflict lay in how fast it would be before a suitable spell could be found and cast.

It had already been days, but Hermione and Elphaba both were searching in a near frantic state for plausible solutions, but the books in Kiamo Ko were not suited for devising magical defenses so much as devising a history lesson. Yet, if there were a single person who could find something worth reading, it would be Hermione. When she was working at full concentration, her eyes could skim each page at an incomparable speed, and her mind would always be working twice as fast.

They seldom left the grand room, save for food and sleep, which was usually performed within its walls anyhow. Once or thrice, Glinda had snuck into to library to find Elphaba's forehead pressed against the center of a book. Although she had attempted to drag the green witch to bed, she would end up shaking Elphaba back to consciousness and would therefore bolster her determination.

Elphaba cast the pile of books in front of her a scowl of disappointment, and she stretched her arms widely to signify her disinterest in their contents, which were neither helpful nor appealing to even her. She stood and gathered the books without fuss, thinking it inappropriate to thrash over this fruitless research. It would just be better to start over. For about the hundredth time.

At the sound of her name being called, though, Elphaba started and nearly dropped the books cradled in her arm. She set them aside and met the gaze of Fiyero, who was standing over her.

"Any progress?" he enquired politely, revealing an apple from his trouser pocket and throwing it at her. "You missed lunch again, you know. As did Hermione. I should have known that your influence would be damaging."

Elphaba smirked as she ate. She took a thankful bite out of the fruit before she replied. "Hermione can take care of herself, as tempting as it is to have a white knight."

"You keep this up, and you'll find yourself with a wrathful dragon instead of a white anything," warned the Winkie Prince.

Elphaba shrugged, still occupied with eating the apple. "I know," she mumbled. "That's what occurs when one lives with _you_ for extended periods." She grinned through the apple and descended down a bookshelf.

"Hey now, Elphaba!" Fiyero called, narrowing his eyes and following the green witch stiffly. "That was uncalled for. Are you implying that I'm frightening?"

"In comparison with me?" Elphaba rhetorically asked as her eyes skimmed titles on a shelf. They were obviously a collector's catch, all by a similar publisher. Such titles as _A History of Animals in Oz; A History of Plant Life in Oz; A History of The Emerald City; A History of Entertainment in Oz; A History of Magic in Oz_ filled the shelfElphaba hummed soundly and grabbed the last book from the shelf, minding the thick cloud of dust that flooded behind it. "It's a gift really, this scariness. It helps when I want to do something myself. I suppose I just have that effect on people."

"Well, you see, it's just because they don't know who you really are," the Winkie explained earnestly, earning a glance from his companion.

"Who am I, really?" she asked, entertained. "Since you seem to know so much about me."

"You girlfriend is Glinda Upland. Enough said," Fiyero chuckled. He seemed not to notice the pile of books building in Elphaba's arms. She thrust them at him, nearly winding the man and leaving him with no other choice but to hold onto the books like a life raft. "Need any help?" he wondered sarcastically.

"Thanks for offering." Elphaba nodded and added another few books on top of the others that weighed on the Winkie, then continued down the bookshelf.

"I didn't mean-" Fiyero sputtered, forced to follow, his arms brimming with books. "I was going to… I meant helping with research! This isn't very helpful at all, Elphaba!"

"On the contrary, it's helping tremendously," contradicted the green witch, no sign of jest on her intense features. She ignored Fiyero's sputters of protest and absorbed herself with flipping through indexes and passages, gradually adding several more books in Fiyero's overwhelmed grasp. "And hush. Deserted or not, a library should be kept silent."

Finally reaching shelf's end, Fiyero scuttled to the nearest table and deposited the books onto its surface. He wrung his hands and rubbed his forearms to regain sensation within them.

"Fae!" greeted Hermione, spotting the green witch emerge from the shelf after Fiyero. "I've been looking for you." She turned to Fiyero and the state of the books on the table before smiling broadly. "Have you been carrying Fae's books? How thoughtful of you! Isn't he thoughtful?" She turned away from Fiyero, who was muttering inappropriately under his breath.

"Have you found anything yet?" Elphaba's face transformed into an expression devoid of pleasantry. "At this pace, we'd find more sufficient information by fleeing back to England."

"I noticed something in this book." Hermione's expression was like the green witch's, although her voice was uncertain. "We don't have possession of the Grimmerie, so I don't if it'll work, but it seems like a hope." She placed a large volume onto the table (_Magic Users, Dwellings and Objects and Where to Find Them _by Oates Taz) with an echoing thump. "Read this right here, on 1291 and 1292."

Elphaba peered at the brown-haired witch closely before dropping her gaze onto the pages, reading aloud so that all could devise an opinion.

"A phenomena of mythological status, the Grimmerie has been reserved as a key instrument of spell casting. Its leather bindings have been told to derive from various sources, such as hide from enchanted Animals, and equally legendary dragons. It houses spells and curses that a magical entity might utilize in terms of cursing opponents, healing the wounded, and additives from wizards of the past. It is difficult to translate, however, from the tongue a select few are able to articulate-" The green witch paused when she felt Fiyero elbow her slightly in the ribcage. She looked up to glare at him. "Do you mind?"

Fiyero cleared his throat and looked away. "Sorry," he muttered. "You may continue."

Elphaba gazed down at the text, reading the next few sentences and frowned. "Well, that's excellent," she mumbled before raising her voice for the rest to hear. "Hermione, it says one who can read the Grimmerie is impossible to defeat. I _know _that." Being one of those entities herself, she knew it well.

Hermione shook her head and obviously suppressed a smile. "Just keep reading," she urged, tucking hair behind an ear. "There's more."

Elphaba raised an eyebrow with skepticism, having known already the information which was provided textually. A cynicism had formed from their days of futile research, but Elphaba continued to read nontheless. "Still, a separator who may read the Grimmerie may weaken or virtually disband the possessor, through an extensive comprehension and concentration of casting a spell from the Grimmerie. A spell to absorb a person, physically and otherwise, is the greatest fraudulence the book may have against its master. _See "Spells for Destruction" on page 127._"

Elphaba paused, running a hand through her hair for a moment in thought. She brought her hand down and looked up at Hermione. The bushy-haired witch was grinning, but the green witch could only return it half-heartedly. "Fundamentally, it says that if we can get the Grimmerie away from Morrible, we can trap her in it?" she asked, re-reading the passage.

"If we can locate the spell fast enough, I think you and Harry will be able to do it," nodded Hermione. "Or even just you."

"Let's venture into the hypothetical." Fiyero spoke up, placing his hands on the table. "Say we capture or trap Morrible into the Grimmerie. I doubt any of us will be able to just tuck it into a shelf in this library and forget about it."

"Destroy it," Hermione replied with certainty. "One of Voldemort's horxcruxes was a journal, with which a part of him was captured. Once it was destroyed, it became harmless. The Grimmerie is much more powerful, but it seems a likely way to defeat Morrible for good. Not to mention take care of any other magic-doers who can read the thing.

"Yes," interrupted Elphaba, her eyes still fixated on the passage. "Yes, that'll work perfectly." Finally, she looked up at the other two, who exchanged anxious glances. "Morrible knows we won't bring a battle into the Emerald City, so it comes to us. She'll carry that book to her grave, but believe me, we're getting a hold of it. I think we've found a way at last."

* * *

"Today is the day," Fiyero announced as he stood up from the dining table. There was a collective groan from the other occupants of the castle.

"You say that _every _day," Harry reminded him. "It hasn't happened yet, and somehow, I don't think that today will be any different." He shrugged. "Maybe Morrible's forgotten about us."

Elphaba immediately spoke up. "No," she said wistfully. "Morrible would never give up so easily, being that we're a thorn in her side. Glinda and me especially. Besides, Weasley wouldn't give up easily either. He's determined to kill me one way or another. He wouldn't forget."

"You're right," Harry sighed. "I was just hoping. It's been a week, though. Wouldn't Morrible and Ron have attacked by now? We're not a very large force; it wouldn't be that hard to defeat us."

Snape snorted. "Nice to know that you're so optimistic," he said sarcastically. "Although it is true. With just the six of us here, it wouldn't be that hard. We need to find more forces."

"Perhaps we could conjure something out of all these tables and chairs and things?" Hermione suggested. "Even though Transfigured items don't last for very long, the extra help might be of assistance in holding Weasley and Morrible off for a bit."

"And then what?" Elphaba asked. "Once the Transfigured items disappear, it's still down to us six. We need something more permanent. If only…" She trailed off. "Never mind. It's not fair of me to ask them."

"Who?" Glinda questioned curiously, meeting Elphaba's dark eyes.

"Well," Elphaba said slowly, "if I could just go out into the surrounding forests-"

As if on cue, Harry, Hermione, Snape, Fiyero, and Glinda immediately berated her. "No, Elphie," Glinda interrupted over the voice of everyone else. "You _know_ that you can't go out. It's too dangerous for you. But why do you need to?"

"The Animals," Elphaba explained. "If we can get in contact with Elera again, perhaps she would know of some Animals that can help us." She shrugged. "It's all I can think of."

"That idea has some merit, actually," Snape began, thinking aloud. "After all, Elera did say that we could ask for help should we need it, and we definitely need it now. But how do we find her? It's not like we could just go outside and find her like that."

"That's not hard," Elphaba reassured him. "I have a lot of Animal contacts, and the entire Animal community is connected. If I could just talk to one, he or she would be able to help find Elera and any other Animals who could help."

"But you are not going outside, Fae," Harry said firmly. "I can go do it." He paused. "How exactly do you tell whether an animal is an animal or an Animal?"

"Animals have souls," Elphaba answered simply, as if that would clear up the matter. Harry blinked, unsure of how that statement would help him discern the difference.

Fiyero finally took pity on Harry's confusion. "What Elphaba _means_ to say is that Animals can talk. So if you talk to it and it talks back, it's an Animal."

"Merlin," Harry groaned. "You're telling me that I have to talk to every animal I see to figure out if it's an animal or an Animal?" Fiyero nodded, grinning at the image of the Boy-Who-Lived trying to talk to birds or chipmunks. "You're pure evil, you know," Harry added as he got up from the table.

"I do believe that the person you are referring to would be me," Elphaba interjected. "But I prefer the term Wicked, thank you very much."

"Wicked it is," Harry added over his shoulder before leaving the dining hall.

"Tiggular," Snape suddenly said after a few minutes of silence. "Where is the kitchen?" He looked like he was swallowing lemons.

"You'd know if you would actually _help_ us prepare food instead of sitting around being a lazy _ass_," Fiyero retorted hotly, seemingly eager to provoke a fight between him and the Potions Master every chance he got.

"You're the one preparing the food?" Snape snapped. "No wonder why I still have a burned taste in my mouth from the bread at dinner last night."

"Actually," Glinda quickly took control of the situation before it turned into another huge fight, "I was the one doing the cooking last night." Snape had the decency to look slightly abashed, although he still scowled at Fiyero. "And the kitchen is the fifth door on your right, if you go down that hall."

"Why do you need to know where the kitchen is?" Elphaba asked curiously.

"Well, whatever you're cooking, I don't to eat it. I'd prefer not to be poisoned, thank you very much," Fiyero interjected.

"FIYERO!" Elphaba, Glinda, and Hermione all screamed at him. Hermione glared. "You're not helping any right now, you know. And to be quite honest, you're getting on my nerves right now. Go. Upstairs."

"But-" Fiyero began to protest in vain.

"Now," Hermione growled, looking quite menacing herself. "And stay up there until you've figured out your priorities. We don't have time to be goading each other. Morrible and Ron and Merlin knows who else are going to attack at any given moment. We can't afford having you acting like a little boy."Fiyero was still mouthing his disbelief as he disappeared out the door and up the stairs.

Snape finally spoke. "To answer your question, Fae, I wish to prepare some potions in the kitchen using the ingredients which I have found. And I must say, Granger, it is quite impressive what you can do when you're dating the most annoying, infernal, idiotic boy in the world."

Elphaba groaned and resisted the urge to slam her head against the dining table. "Snape. Don't you start too. Or I'll send you up to _your_ room. Don't think I won't do it."

As it turned out, however, Snape had no chance to challenge Elphaba's dare. With a squeal, a crashing noise, and a clatter, a winged creature suddenly flew full speed into the kitchen, landed on the table, and made quite a mess of the butter dish. All of the occupants of the table jumped up, three of them pulling out their wands and pointing them at the intruder.

Harry ran in, breathing hard and clutching his wand. "Sorry, Fae," he panted. "I tried to stop it. I really did. It was too fast for me, though. And it could fly!"

"El-pha-ba," the winged monkey finally spoke, slowly, but confidently. He reached out a simian hand, which Elphaba took quickly.

"Chistery," she replied, smiling at the familiar face of her old friend and confidant. "How did you find me?"

The flying monkey would not say any more, however. He merely chattered random nonsense and flew around the table, shocking most of the other people sitting there.

"Fae?" Harry said slowly as he recovered from the effort he had exerted by chasing Chistery around the grounds and into Kiamo Ko. "What-or who exactly is that?"

"Chistery," Elphaba replied. "He was…an old friend, from when I was the Witch. A flying Monkey, to be exact."

"And…why can he fly?" Hermione, ever the intellect, asked curiously as she watched Chistery dart from rafter to rafter. "Are flying Monkeys common here in Oz? I've certainly never seen one."

Elphaba's mood visibly darkened at this. "No, not too common. There are several others, for sure, but I don't know where they are…do you, Chistery? And it was…a spell gone wrong that caused this." She sensed that Hermione was about to ask another question, and she put a hand up, stopping her. "No. Sorry, Hermione, but I'm really not in the mood to talk about it."

"Monkeys wing- wind- west," Chistery chattered.

"In the west, apparently," Snape translated, seemingly unimpressed by the sight of a flying monkey darting around the great dining hall.

"Um…Chistery?" Harry began hesitantly, unsure about speaking to a monkey in the first place, least of all a flying one. "Do you think you could…find these other Monkeys and tell them to come here? Or…something like that?"

"Find- fowl- fiend," Chistery said as he flew off over Harry's head and out the door again. There was silence for a moment as the last of Chistery's giant wing-beats faded into the distance.

"That was eventful," Hermione finally said, placing down her glass of water. "You think Chistery will really be able to find the others?"

"I'm sure of it," Elphaba replied carefully, standing up. "After all, he's really quite intelligent. Meanwhile, since Harry obviously can not find any Animals without getting chased around or chasing a Monkey, I will go do it." She was in her panther form and out the door before anyone could yell at her.

"Sometimes, as much as I love Elphaba, I want to take her and strangle her," Glinda noted in a would-be-cheerful voice as she stood up as well. "I really do, for her lack of common sense, most of all. Among other things."

"Point taken," Snape said. "After all, it's Fae. She's driven us to do desperate things before. Such as camping out in this Merlin-forsaken castle. Anything that has to do with Tiggular in any way, shape, or form disgusts me, unfortunately. " He flicked an invisible speck of dust off from his robes.

"Snape!" Fiyero yelled from upstairs. He obviously had been eavesdropping from the top of the stairs the entire time. "I heard that, you greasy git!"

The rest of the party groaned. The sooner Morrible and Ron attacked, the better. At least Fiyero and Snape would be apart back in England.

It was going to be a _long_ couple of days.

**Coming up: The battle. Take two. Elphaba's going to have a lot of war stories to tell in the future.**

**Hopefully, now that I'm past the Chapter of Doom (as I called this chapter), I'll get this story done soon.**

**Wolfie**


	26. Dangerous Game

**The title from chapter twenty-five was from Cabaret. Congrats to Yank2324 and Anne Flint. **

**Mucho thanks to **_**Sparky Heffely**_** for beta-ing this chapter. Superb job as usual; she caught some stuff that actually quite amused me.**

**Chapter 26: Dangerous Game**

_Five steps to the right. Stop. Five steps to the left. Stop. Five steps to the right again. _Fiyero watched Elphaba with a growing amusement. "You're going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep doing that," he teased as Elphaba paced back and forth in front of him.

Elphaba stopped to snap tersely at the unfortunate man in her line of vision. "What else would you have me do?" She resumed pacing without waiting for an answer. It was a rhetorical question anyway. She couldn't help her restlessness. Elphaba had never been patient, and volunteering to do guard duty made it even worse. The green witch just wanted this whole thing over with.

Fiyero sighed, knowing that anything he said or did would only make it worse. However, that did not stop him from trying to reason with the green witch. "Look, Elphaba," he said. "You ought to get some lunch or something. Or even better, some rest."

Elphaba didn't even turn from her rhythm of pacing to look at Fiyero anymore. "And let Weasley and Morrible come in to slit our throats? No thank you," she replied, with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "If you're not going to give me useful advice, then leave me alone."

Fiyero shrugged, as if to say, "I tried," before leaving Elphaba to her mumbling and pacing. She had been the same way before the battle against Voldemort. He would leave her to stew. He knew from experience that he would not be able to talk any sense into his ex-girlfriend; she was _that_ stubborn. Perhaps Glinda might be able to do something.

He knocked on the door of Glinda and Elphaba's room, hoping that the blonde could get some common sense into her girlfriend's head. Lurline knows she would be the only one who could. "Glinda? Are you in here?"

The door was opened, though, not by Glinda, but by a familiar furry figure. "Fiyero," the regal Wolf greeted, pushing the door open wider with her body. "We were about to look for you, actually." She stood back, letting him into the room, where Glinda was sitting anxiously. "There's some important news that you should to know."

"You should get Elphie," Glinda added, looking quite worried. "I think she should hear this." 

"What about the others?" Fiyero asked as he prepared to find the green woman. "Shouldn't they know, if this has something to do with Morrible or Weasley- which, I assume it does."

"No," Elera said, nudging the man out the door and into the hallway. "This has nothing to do with Morrible or Weasley." She shifted uncomfortably. "Actually…it's a favor that I need Miss Elphaba to do for me. For several of us."

"And by us, you mean…" Glinda prompted.

"I mean a group of Animals out west about a mile from here," Elera elaborated. She waited with Glinda in silence until Fiyero was back with Elphaba. 

"What is it?" Elphaba asked urgently, fighting the urge to pace again. "What's happened, Elera?"

Glinda placed a hand on Elphaba's shoulder. "For Lurline's sake, Elphaba," she said. "Calm down! This stressing can't be good for you. The only thing it'll give you is high blood pressure." Fiyero marveled at how calm Glinda could be while her green girlfriend was so frantic. They were complete opposites, but they balanced each other out. It was a good match. 

Elphaba calmed enough to listen to Elera. "So…there are several Wolves, some Bears, and a Wildcat in a group a mile out from here," she repeated. "They're all pretty young too- only five years of age at the most. They ran into some of the Gale Force some time ago and sustained injuries. I've been checking on them, but mostly, they're not healing too well. We need someone with more expertise in this field." She leveled her gaze at Elphaba. "Someone like you."

"No!" Fiyero immediately snapped adamantly. "I'm sorry, Elera, but that is out of the question. Elphaba can't leave Kiamo Ko. It's too dangerous."

Elphaba sent a dark glare at Fiyero and clenched her fists by her side. "What are you?" she challenged. "My father?"

"A friend who cares about you," Fiyero countered. "You _know_ you can't go out there, with all of Oz out for your blood. Who knows what is waiting for you out there?"

"And I can't stay cooped up in here for the rest of my life!" Elphaba shot back. "I can't just let these Animals die in good conscience when I could do _something_ about it! I at least have to try, Fiyero. Unlike you, I care about what happens to the rest of the world."

Fiyero held his hands out in an 'I surrender' gesture. "Woah! When did the fact that I don't care about the rest of the world come into this conversation?" he asked. "Look," he sighed. "I'll compromise. I'll go find the others. We can all go together, then. And you can borrow Harry's invisibility cloak again. Okay?"

"Who died and made you king?" Elphaba muttered. Fiyero walked out the door, ignoring Elphaba's obvious frustration. She'd get over it, once Morrible and Weasley were defeated. She'd thank him in the end. 

Elphaba began pacing again once Fiyero was out the door, shrugging off Glinda's hand on her shoulder. "Who does he think he is?" she hissed in disbelief. "He can't just order me around like that! I can take care of myself quite well!" She peered out the doorway to make sure Fiyero was gone before turning back to Elera and Glinda. "Okay," she said. "It's all clear. Let's go."

Elera seemed all too eager to start out without Fiyero, but Glinda held Elphaba back. "Go?" she asked in a shrill voice. "Go where?"

"To the moon," Elphaba answered sarcastically. "Where do you think? To those Animals Elera was telling me about!"

"But you heard Fiyero." Glinda frowned. "He said it would be too dangerous." 

"Screw what Fiyero said," Elphaba snapped. "I'm going with Elera." She made sure her wand was securely in its hoister and made to follow the Wolf when Glinda's voice stopped her. "What now?" she asked, sighing. It wasn't that she was annoyed at Glinda, but all this worrying and her lack of food and sleep made her irritable.

"Then I'm going with you." Glinda took a small step forward. "At least I'll know that you're not in any trouble. I'll feel better about it in any case."

The Wolf trotted around at the two women's feet. "There'll be no trouble, Glinda," she interrupted. "Don't be so worried. Elphaba and I will go and be back within the hour." She seemed over-anxious to get out of the small room.

"Exactly," Elphaba agreed. "I'll be back soon. Let's go, Elera." They were wasting precious time arguing when they could have been halfway there by now!

Glinda crossed her arms in front of her chest stubbornly. "Either I'm coming with the both of you or no one is going!" she hissed, sounding quite animalistic herself.

"Fine!" Elphaba threw her arms into the air in exasperation. "Now come on!" After making sure that no one was in the hallways, she, Elera, and Glinda slipped downstairs and out the doors.

"I think you should transform," Glinda said. "It'd be safer, especially with those spies or whatever that Harry mentioned might be lurking about earlier." Elphaba was inclined to disagree until Glinda gave her a no-nonsense look, her mouth pressed together in a thin line.

The green witch chose to roll her eyes again. "Yes, mother," she muttered. At least she was out here. Fiyero would have never let her go, animagus form or not. With a small pop, a black panther stood where Elphaba had been. It shook its head slightly and its ears twitched.

Elera started forward, glancing back at Elphaba and Glinda from time to time to make sure they were keeping up. "Come on, come on!" she urged. "It's just through the forest a bit. Hurry!"

* * *

When Fiyero finally found the two English wizards and one witch, he explained the situation to them. "So I told Elphaba that we should all go together," he finished. "I mean, maybe I'm just being paranoid, but having four magic uses is better than just one. Or one and a half, since Glinda can do just a little magic."

"No, not paranoid," Hermione reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Just careful, which is always a good thing."

"For once," Snape muttered darkly, scowling at Fiyero, as he always did.

Hermione continued as though she had not heard the Potions Master. "And you know that Fae is too reckless for her own good anyway. We'll keep her in line for you."

"You speak as though I'm not going," Fiyero noted as the four of them began the long trek across Kiamo Ko back to the room where the other occupants of the castle and Elera were.

"Because you're not going," Harry spoke up, shrugging.

Fiyero stopped in disbelief. "What do you mean 'you're not going'?" he demanded. "I'm going! You're not leaving me alone here!"

"Good thing you won't be alone." Snape smirked. "Glinda will be here with you. She's not going either. You'd both be a burden to us should we be attacked by Weasley, Morrible, or any men under their command."

"Glinda would never stay behind," Fiyero reminded the others angrily. "She would never let Elphaba wander out on her own, even with you three there."

Snape fingered his wand cheekily. "Oh, she'll stay behind," he said. "Even if she doesn't want to." At Fiyero's raised eyebrow, he added, "Aren't full Body-Binding spells absolutely wonderful?"

Fiyero was outraged at Snape's smug face. "Elphaba would never allow that!" he snapped. "She'd curse you into next year just for _suggesting_ it. Or even _thinking_ it!"

"I'm not scared of Fae," Snape scoffed.

The Winkie Prince refused to look at Snape. He might do something he would regret later if he did. "You do realize you're talking about Elphaba? The same Elphaba who almost beat Harry in a duel and helped defeat Voldemort? The one who can read the Grimmerie?"

"I was a fair duler in my day," Snape said in a would-be modest voice, although there was an undercurrent of pride as well. "Besides, TIggular, you've never seen me duel Fae. Or duel anyone, for that matter."

By this point, they had all reached the room where Elphaba, Glinda, and Elera were. The door was closed, and Harry took the moment to interrupt Fiyero and Snape's argument to knock on the door. "Fae? Are you in there?"

Fiyero and Snape stopped arguing long enough to listen. Only silence answered Harry's question. The Boy-Who-Lived pounded on the door again. "Fae? Glinda? Elera?" His inquiries were again only met by silence.

"Oh no," Fiyero mumbled, fighting the urge to hit his head on the wall, or even better, go find Elphaba and hit _her_ had against the wall in order to knock some sense into her head. Lurline knew she needed it. "Oh no, oh no, oh no. They've gone already, haven't they?"

Hermione's reassuring, calm voice cut through Fiyero's panic. "We don't know that yet. You're just assuming that from a closed door."

"Always the optimistic," Snape said bluntly, trying the door handle and finding it unlocked. "Where do you think they are, Granger? Playing a game of Quidditch in the yard, perhaps?" He threw the door open so hard that it rebounded off the wall. "See? No one in here."

"I didn't say that they would be in here." Hermione defended herself as she walked into the room, as if she would find Elphaba, Glinda, and Elera hiding in a corner or in the closet. "I was just saying not to _assume_ they were not here just because they weren't answering the door."

Snape shook his head. "That's the same difference. There would be nothing to assume, because you _know_ that they weren't in here. There's no need to have false hope, or worse to give others false hope."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue. "But-" 

"_Why_ are we having this argument in the first place!" Harry stepped in between Snape and Hermione. "We should be looking for Fae and the others, not disagreeing on…implications and assumptions and whatever the hell you two are disagreeing on. This isn't the time or place for an intellectual argument, as enlightening as you may find them, Hermione!"

"I'm sure any trail they may have had will have gone cold by now," Fiyero muttered. "They will have been gone for over fifteen or twenty minutes!"

"You seem to forget, Tiggular," Snape hissed, his voice full of disdain, "that we are wizards, and therefore, we had handy little devices called _wands_." He waved his own around to demonstrate his point. "These wands can cast spells, one of which is a certain Tracking Spell. It shouldn't be hard, even for your tiny little brain to comprehend."

Fiyero scowled at Snape and looked ready to attack him, but Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, partly to comfort him and partly to hold him back should he _actually_ attack the dark-haired man. "That's enough, Snape," she said, steering Fiyero through the doorway and away from Snape. 

"You forget that you were once my student, Granger," Snape yelled after them, his voice echoing in the stone hallway. "You have no right to speak to me like that."

Hermione ignored him and led the way with Fiyero to the huge doors which led to the grounds of Kiamo Ko. She took her wand out, laid it flat on her palm, and muttered a spell. The wand spun around and around in her palm, as Fiyero knew it would before steadying in one direction. It pointed straight into the forest. 

"Oh, this will be fun," Fiyero muttered sarcastically, climbing onto the lion which Harry had already transformed into. Snape looked ready to protest Fiyero's being there, but even he knew to be quiet when Harry growled in his direction, his white teeth gleaming in the sunlight. Instead, Snape satisfied himself with transforming into his fox form and letting Harry pick him up. 

Fae was so dead once they got back to England.

* * *

They had been walking in silence for a little while now. Elera and Glinda did not know each other well enough to make small talk, and Elphaba, being in panther form, could not talk should she wish to. She was an animal, not an Animal. The silence annoyed Glinda, who was used to the constant chatter of her surroundings in the Emerald City and thrived on it. Finally, just to get rid of the uncomfortable silence, she chanced a conversation with the Wolf. "So…" she said awkwardly.

"Yes, Miss Glinda?" Elera did not look at the blonde; she merely concentrated on the forest path before them. 

Glinda had never been very good at making small talk. "How long have you known Elphie?" she tried cautiously. It never hurt to try, anyhow.

Elera seemed to shrug. "I met her almost immediately after she defied the Wizard. I was one of the first Animals she helped out, and for that, I am eternally grateful." Her voice broke as she said this, and she stopped walking, causing Elphaba to almost stumble over the smaller creature. They were in a clearing now that was mostly shrouded from view with vegetation and shadows the tall trees cast in the area.

Elphaba transformed back, looking at Elera with concern. "Are you alright?" she asked kindly. "What happened? Why are we stopping?"

Elera could not bring herself to look at Elphaba or Glinda. "Forgive me, Miss Elphaba. I did not mean for it to happen this way. It was the only way I could guarantee the safety of my cubs. I really do appreciate what you have done for me, and I hate myself for doing this."

The green witch frowned. "What do you mean, Elera? I don't know what you are talking ab-"

"And Miss Glinda," the Wolf continued, not appearing to have even heard Elphaba talking, "I didn't want to hurt you. Truly I didn't. I couldn't, even if I had wanted to. That was why I didn't want you to come along. It was only supposed to be Elphaba. Only Elphaba."

Elphaba reached a hand out to Elera, but the Wolf backed away, equal amounts of guilt, fear, and anxiety in her amber eyes. "No. Don't touch me," she said in little more than a whisper. "I do not deserve you. I do not deserve your kindness."

"Elera, I don't understand," Elphaba pleaded desperately. "Please explain. Where are the Animals you were talking about? What _are_ you talking about?" She looked around the clearing for any clues it may hold regarding Elera's mysterious and slightly alarming words, but she saw nothing. The shadows and plants hid everything in darkness.

"There…there _are_ no Animals, Miss Elphaba." Both women could barely hear Elera at this point. "It was a trap. A ruse to draw you out. And I was in the center of it." Elphaba drew her wand from its hoister cautiously, but before she could demand a further explanation, there came a rustling from the bushes.

"Expelliarmous!" Elphaba had no time to react. Her wand shot out of her grip and landed in the hands of one Ronald Weasley. She whirled around as several Gale Force members, Weasley, and Morrible herself, holding the Grimmerie in one hand and with a satisfied smirk on her face advanced on herself and Glinda.

"Glinda," Elphaba muttered from the corner of her mouth. "Get behind me." 

"That would do no good, Elphie," Glinda replied, her eyes darting around, looking for any possible escape route. There were none. The Gale Force surrounded them in a circle, leaving no way for them to escape. "They're all around us." Elphaba put her hand in Glinda's and gave it a squeeze, if only for the physical comfort. Although she wasn't very sure what comfort would do in this case. 

The two witches were ripped apart by the Gale Force. A fourth of them held Glinda back, and the rest of the group restrained Elphaba, who was twisting and pulling at her captors as hard as she could, to no avail. "Glinda!" she called. _Damnit! Not again! Hadn't Glinda been through enough in the last few weeks already?_ "No, Glinda!" She sent her fiercest glare at the Gale Force clutching Glinda's arms. "Let her go! You have me, already. She's done nothing to you; she's no threat."

"I'm fine, Elphie." Glinda's voice was unnaturally high-pitched. "Don't worry about me." 

"You know, Elphaba, dear," Morrible cut in, "you really ought to listen to others once in a while. Miss Glinda here is right. I really wouldn't worry about her. You should be a little bit more concerned for your own health. At least I would be."

"I'm not scared of you!" Elphaba spat. "You _or_ Weasley."

Ron gave Elphaba a smug look. "We'll see about that, Thropp. I do believe we've had this conversation once before." He refused to say any more to Elphaba. Rather, he turned to the Gale Force and barked out orders. "You, you, and you!" He pointed to three random men. "Go to the castle and get the other occupants over here. You have permission to use force if necessary."

Morrible gave a small smirk at Elphaba's outraged and yet slightly fearful expression. "Let the games begin, Miss Elphaba. Let the games begin."

**Coming up: The **_**real**_** battle. Even though I said that last chapter. **

**I actually quite enjoyed writing this chapter. I don't know why, but it was fun. The whole Elera thing made me want to cry, though. **

**Also, I have posted a poll in my profile regarding WotW. Check it out and vote! I'm interested in what you guys think.**

**Finally…Reviews are love. **

**Wolfie**


	27. Author's Note Hi 3 12 years later!

**So I may or may not have traveled back in time three years and gotten reobsessed with Wicked. Oh dear. **

**But that leads me to a question, since I have ALL THE WICKED MUSES back…I know it's been almost four years since I updated, but would anyone be interested in me trying to finish this fic? I don't even know who would be checking this anymore, other than people who have this fic on alert, but…well, if enough people are interested, I still remember where I was going with this fic!**

**Cheers!**

**- Wolfie**


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